KABOOM!
by JosieStyle
Summary: KABOOM! and there was a gas explosion! Peter and Neal were involved in this terrifying accident. Peter ends up in the hospital but Neal has disappeared under the rubble. Or was he? Peter!whump. Neal!whump. No deathfic. I swear! I promise a happy ending:)
1. Chapter 1

And then there was an explosion.

Even if you think of something like this, it sounded a little silly. First you walk down the street for a cup of coffee with your best friend and partner, talking about the game last night. And the next thing you know there was a big boom and everything changes in to a warzone around you. Suddenly you were in hell. For no damn reason.

There was no explanation for it. No gut feeling before this was about to happen. It just did. And now it sounded all a little foolish. Before they rudely were interrupted by the big boom Neal said something that made him uneasy. You wanted to tell him that there was no such thing as a put-up job in Baseball. Not in his favorite team, that is!

But he could never finish his sentence.

The big boom ended it all.

There was no excuse.

It was just very abrupt and rude. The first blast sounded deep and low. And when Peter and Neal were forcibly blown to the pavement, Peter noticed that the actual falling part didn't even hurt. As odd as it sounds. He was okay. Peter hit the floor at first because he was the closest near the exploding building. He watched his friend do the same. His movements were playing out like a slow motion affront of his eyes. Peter heard himself yell but his voice didn't even catch his own ears. But when Neal finally hit the floor, flames where bursting out of the building. All the windows, that didn't blew out with the first blast, exploded in the air. It was like watching the heaven sky weep of tiny little sharp crystals.

"Peter!" He suddenly heard his partner cry out.

"Neal! Stay low!" and he saw it. Those tears. Neal cried.

Neal cried. He saw the big blue eyes tearing up. His prone body shriveled in panic as he crawled to him. His face was covered in soot and debris dust, except for the wet streaks from under his bright blue eyes. It made him shivery and weak. Peter saw it all. But he couldn't help. Couldn't move.

Like he wasn't really there. As if he watched an old war movie with no interest.

A few seconds past by as the air started to cool down a bit. Maybe this was it. Maybe they could go now. Away for this. Back to the office, like nothing really happened. Peter so hoped they were out of danger again. He glanced at the shivering man across of him on the ground. There was blood tickling on his forehead and Peter knew they both must have been hurt. It was a hell of an explosion and he was sure that something had hit his leg. Or legs. He didn't feel his feet anymore. Maybe it was just the shock. He let out a groan and pushed himself up from the floor. Of course he couldn't get up. That would be to easy. So, yup. He was hurt. When he felt himself sink back at the ground he knew it had to be bad.

Maybe he was even worse than he thought.

But it all seemed over. And Peter let his eyes wander through his partner a few feet away from him.

"You'kay?" Peter slurred. He didn't even realize that he was panting like a dog right now. Something told him his whole legs were hurt. As he lay flat on his belly he could manage to crawl a little but didn't get far. But he saw Neal better now. He looked pretty bad.

"N-no…" Neal finally answered. There was blood running down from his skull now. And the blast had layered them both with grayish dust, making the blood look even more scarier. "Can't see…" Neal stuttered weakly. And there it was. Those normally stunning big blue eyes looked up at him and Peter felt himself melt down in tears. His eyes! His damn eyes were almost white, now.

"My god… Neal…" Peter stuttered. Neal shook his head in total shock. "Can't see… Can't see…" he repeated again and again. Tears fell down his bloody face. "Why can't I see, Peter? Please tell me! I am so scared…" He saw those shaky hands go up to his face.

"Don't you touch that. You need to keep them as clean as possible." Peter felt himself falter down on the floor again. His chin smacked against the hard ground underneath him. He was tired and dizzy. Besides that, his ears were buzzing like crazy.

Some waifs and strays fell down next to him. Making Neal's voice fade away. Peter didn't know what to say to him, anymore.

"It is going to be okay," he promised. He managed to get himself up again and stretched his hand out at Neal, trying to pat his foot. Comfort him. But Neal never felt that. Because a second explosion blast them even further away from the building. They rolled a few meters away. Causing Peter to scream in the sudden pain from his both legs.

So it wasn't over yet.

The blast had burned all the oxygen out of the sky, causing the deafening absent of sounds around them. The building was now one bulb of red light. Big red flames where coloring the entire sky. When his aching body came to an hold he was on his back. For some reason his head snapped backwards, only to see the big piece of iron fall on top of his chest. He knew it should have been hurt. Hell, he should be squashed like a bug right now! But he didn't feel it. And that scared him.

Then there were other pieces falling besides him on the ground. And he also knew that Neal had to be close to him. His mind was starting to blur. Neal should be alive. Even when he was cursed for being blind his whole life, he still was the smartest, fastest and clever man in his life that could run away from anything. _He was fine. Neal was fine…_ While he was gasping in some air he felt all his blood rise to his head. There was no way he could get away now, remembering he was stuck on the floor now. Then a sudden crack in his chest made him yelp in pain. And all his strength faded away.

Everything faded away.

Peter felt almost nothing, anymore.

Nothing.

He knew he was going to die.

But then he shot back in awareness by a faint voice, a few steps away from him. _NEAL!_ He was yelling at him! But he couldn't understand what he was saying. _Neal! Oh god oh god…_Peter wasn't even sure Neal was speaking words or just yelled in pain. _Goddamn! He was blind. He probably thought he was left all alone! He should say something to let him know he wasn't. _But there was not enough air for it. His longs were to empty.

'At least Neal was still alive, otherwise he couldn't yell,' he stated. That was an relieve.

The heat was getting too unbearable by now. Peter felt sick. He felt! He felt again! And he just wished he couldn't. _Chest! My chest! ... My god… Hurts so bad…_

He even couldn't move anymore. He felt so heavy. His shaky hands stumped at a big thing that lay on top of him. He was well aware of the big piece of iron supporting beam that was crushing his chest. It was starting to hurt even more when he tried to move it. It was useless.

At some point Peter really must have passed out because when he opened his eyes again the world was dark. Or was it just the smoke? He felt numb. But he still could hear the fire crackling. He heard sirens from miles away. He heard people scream. But what he didn't hear anymore was in fact… Neal.

_Was he death? Where they both death?_

The earth shook violently from underneath them and if Peter kept his eyes closed, perhaps for the best given the havoc and drama around him, it seemed that he had ended up in the ocean. Everything swirled. Everything rippled and the only thing you could do was brainless sway with it. There was no other choice. You were so small and insignificant compared to this roaring power.

Everything was blown away. Everything. His life. His friends life. Even his new shoes that El had bought for Valentine's day, this year.

It was all gone now.

Well ... not completely _gone_.

"Peter! Peter! Where are you," a distressed voice was calling out. _NEAL!_

Crackling sounds of someone walking through the mess were mixed up together with his own heartbeat thumping hard in his ears. He heard the younger man fall ones or twice. But he could at least walk. Peter tried to talk again but he was so weak. With the first try he was starting to fall unconscious again. Then, out of nowhere shaking fingers touched his face. "There you are. I was so scared, Peter." Neal stroked his index finger over Peter's nose and jawline, to see his face better in his head. Peter tried to smile. Hoping Neal would feel that he was still alive. And he did! He smiled back. Besides his battered face. His eyes were looking even worse now. They started to look bloody red and gray. The eyelids were slightly swollen now and Peter almost yelped for it. He looked bad. Even he was luckier than him, right now.

"What's the damage? Can't you talk? Do you… does you phone still work?" Neal tried again. His fingers were now touching the warm iron blockage that prevented Peter to talk back, or breathe better.

And when he closed his eye one moment to take in a deeper breathe there was another explosion! The whole building was collapsing right now! Neal ducked above him and screamed in panic. And that was about the last thing Peter saw.

* * *

**AN: There it is. A translated chapter from a new scary story. I will continue in English from now on:) don't know what I was thinking. Writing in Dutch for crying out loud! haha. Anyway, review please. Otherwise you will never know if Neal and Peter be still alive;)**

**I know. I am a meany today...**

**X**

**Josie**


	2. Chapter 2

...

It had turned out that the explosion was caused by a huge gas leak from the inside. Apparently someone didn't recognized or detected the quirky smell when he or she put on the stove. All things considering, those people shouldn't even be living in there. The gas suppliers shouldn't even be still working, by now. Because the building had been evacuated, a year ago. And still, a small number of people were illegally using it for some damn reason. Even when the authorities had told them, yesterday, to leave because this old building was about to be demolished, at the end of the month. It appeared that they hadn't listened.

Well… that wasn't a problem anymore. Because those people and the building itself were all gone now. And, well… Peter and Neal where just so damn unlucky to be around, at that scary moment.

So this was not some act of revenge, of any kind. Nobody wanted to hurt them in particular.

No violent villain from the distant past of Neal's former conning lifestyle. Also no fugitive, who was stepped on the toes by Peter to many times that he wanted to take revenge. No one wanted to hurt them with this kind of brute force.

This was an accident.

A bad one, for that matter.

The only good thing about it was that this happened on a Sunday morning, when most of the people weren't around. Except for Peter and Neal, of course.

It was just bad luck.

...

This had happened two weeks ago.

And today was the day that Peter finally had managed to open his amber colored glassy eyes, again.

For real this time.

A gut feeling told him something must've been very wrong.

Everything was a nasty stain. He couldn't recognize anything by those nasty misty haze a front of his eyes. Even when he blinked a couple of times it didn't go away. It was just very frustrating and annoying. And above all it was kind of strange that he was thinking about Mozzie, in his fully awoken state. Suddenly he had the urge to respect this man because he wears glasses. This must have been the same as a filthy spot was on one of the glass, so he had to clean it before he could see properly again. That has to be annoying too.

"Peter? Are you awake? Your eyes are squinting..."

Peter was suddenly aware of sounds around him. Even though they sounded a little muffled and far away. It was as if he lay underwater. But he knew that soft sweet voice. He was pretty sure of it.

"Hhonnn ..." he moaned automatically. The sound of his own voice made him more alert. _Man! He sounded off_. A second sense began to tingle. He smelled something sweet. _A sweet smell ... It sure was sweet..._

The mellifluent smell entered his nostrils.

"Yes, hon. I am here. Oh my god, I can't believe my eyes. You're awake!" There was that voice again.

A soft warm touch caressed his cheek and Peter finally realized who was with him. Even though, he still couldn't see her very well.

But that was his greatest love in his life. His home, his life, his everything! It was El. And he had missed here! Taking in the sweet scent from her soft hand he realized something remarkable.

_That perfume! _...

That was the perfume that he had given her yesterday. She said she loved that smell. But when he had given the box and she smelled the purple bottle he saw her flinch. It was just one small flinch, but Peter knew right away that El didn't like his choice.

But she wore it now. And somehow, that made him very…. _vvveeeerryyy _happy. He wanted to smile but his whole body felt weak and light as a feather. Although, he felt some weird kind of heaviness, too. Like there was a hippo on top of him. Maybe El had put a hippo on him because she was afraid that he would fly away. He giggled suddenly.

Besides that… he was also tired.

"Hon. You're tripping on the meds." Her voice sounded disapprovingly. Peter blinked again, trying to understand what she was saying to him. He must have been looking really confused because Elizabeth started to chuckle too, and stroked his face lovingly.

"But that's okay. I missed you so much. How are you feeling?" The voice was clearer now and Peter willingly blinked up at her. He wanted to see her, so badly! He had missed her too! Very much. It felt like it had lasted too long since they had last seen each other.

"E-El ...What's the time, again?" His voice was still strange and out of balance. And this attempt to made him cough hoarsely at the dryness from his throat. Immediately he was ensured and he felt a straw brought to his lips and he willingly began sucking at it. Small sips were enough to make him completely exhausting and he fell silent for a moment.

"Does that matter?" El asked sternly. But her hands kept stroking his skin sweetly.

"Hoonnnhh ... I am late, aren't I?" he moaned again automatically. "Why didn't you wake me, earlier?" Peter knew something was very off about this. Their bedroom smelled odd. Like El was planning to operate someone in here. It smelled like a hospital, in here! And then there were, of course, the ugly white walls. So it even their room looked like a freaking hospital!

Besides that, El wasn't there next to him. In their bed.

El snorted at that.

"Oh would you stop that, Peter? Take it easy. They already know." Her hands grabbed his shoulders, preventing him to move. "Hon?"

Peter finally saw what was happening. But he knew he had to make sure he was right. He was obviously in hospital. He was lofty and probably as high as a kite. so he had gotten himself in trouble.

"What did I do this time?" Peter joked. But El didn't laugh. She was getting worried about her husband. Her grip softened, as she sighed.

"Okay, sweetheart. This is no joke. You're in the hospital. You had been through a lot. So just please, stay calm?"

"Sure thing, hon. Get on that _rrriiiiight awayyyy_…" he slurred as his eyes fluttered shut.

He felt himself still smiling. Yeah sure, he was a little concerned about his wife.

"_Peter?"_

And he was kind of lost at the whole getting hurt part. He didn't even know how bad he was hurt. Or were… But he didn't care.

"_Peter…"_

The only thing that he cared off, now, was hearing his wife talk to him. And that made him very happy. So that explained the wide smile, probably.

It went quiet for a while. Too quiet, actually. El stopped stroking at some point. Because when she said something like: "I call a nurse," she sounded already far… far away.

At this moment Peter wasn't even sure if this whole thing really had happened. Even if he felt a little uneasy about this situation. _Did he just scare his wife away? What had he done wrong? Why was… why…._

"Hey, you're back." And then the sweet recognizing voice came in.

But her voice was mixing up with a very strange kind of annoying music in the background. One that was carrying a beat with a strange annoying persistent beeping sound.

_Beep beep beep beep ..._

It was certainly very annoying because it was so repetitive. And Peter hated repetitions!

He shook his head to get rid of that sound. Suddenly his eyes finally fell on something he recognized. Two dazzling blue light bulbs were staring at him. Calm and tender. This time the frustrating blur was gone and he nearly let himself drown in the heavenly appearance from his wife.

She was so beautiful!

A gnawing feeling in his gut told him that some time must've been past, between the discovery of El's perfume and seeing her blue eyes. She was in fact smiling back at him, now.

"El ..." he whispered weakly. Elizabeth chuckled.

"Yeah. It's me, sweety. Are you feeling a little better now?" she asked softly. Peter nodded but didn't quite understand her question.

"You had some kind of a strong reaction against the morphine dose they were given you. It made you a little loopy," Elizabeth said again. Now she came closer and pushed a kiss on his forehead. Peter had to close his eyes for a moment. It felt good. Peter wanted to grab her hand to kiss her back, but he could barely move. He felt so damn heavy.

"Figured that much. Hippo's aren't allowed in hospitals," Peter heard himself burr out.

_Shut up, you idiot!_

He sighed to himself and tried again. "Sorry, hon. For being so loopy. Co-could you forgive me?" And Elisabeth smiled. "Of course I do." She hugged him. "The doctor said it was normal for you to be like this. You know after what happened." She sounded a little unsure of herself. Then she broke the embrace in a slow movement to look back at him. She took her place on a chair that was standing next to his bed.

Peter surely was loopy. And weak. But still, he could read his wife's eyes perfectly now he could see them again. She was afraid. She looked even a little guilty. But why? She hasn't done anything wrong.

El was so beautiful. She glowed completely. Her eyes were almost white and bright. Her skin shone like porcelain. The light blue blouse was almost one with the space, the longer he looked at her, the better she looked. Except for her frown.

"Peter?" asked his wife again.

"Yeah?" he waited for his wife to start talking about what was bothering her.

"I don't know if you are ready for this conversation, but I think you need to know something. Because… I-I can't keep it any longer from you." Her eyes were tearing up.

That had stricken Peter. He was suddenly well aware of his lack of interest about why the hell he was in the hospital. Well, he knew something was very wrong. And he started thinking.

"The perfume," he said hoarsely. "You hated it. But you wear it anyway. Are you feeling guilty, El? About me?" Elizabeth startled at that. But she shook her head almost immediately.

"NO! ... Why would you think of that?" Peter winched at her sudden outburst. The beeping noise fastened up a bit. And Peter could have swear he felt his ribs move a little, causing him to lay back on his bed, quietly, from the odd sensation. Somehow his mind was telling him something. About his chest. About what had happened to him. But all he could see in his head was the color _red_. And for the first time his eyes wandered to his body. He looked down at his thin blanket. The IV needle in his arm. His hands. His much thin arms. And he also saw the two big plastered white legs. That last thing scared him.

"M-my legs. What happened to my legs? Are they still there? El? Are they?" The beeping sound went faster.

Wow, this was serious.

"Sorry… to tell you this… but… you were in a terrible accident. There was an explosion… And…" Elizabeth broke off because of her concerns about her husband's heart rate. Unconsciously El rubbed over her perfumed wrists.

"You…. You were in a light coma for about a week and a half. After they found you in the rubble they did everything to keep you from dying. Both legs were broken badly. You will have to learn to walk again, someday. There was a pole on top of you. They said it was a miracle that you were still alive." Peter felt himself grow weaker. His blood was draining from his face. "The doctors thought you wouldn't recover because of the lack of oxygen in your brain, from that iron pole. They said to me that you could be brain death. Brain death, Peter!"

And immediately after this Elizabeth stood up from her chair and turned herself to the window. Her back was now toward him and Peter saw her shoulders shake and vibrate violently.

Of course he couldn't reach her. But he wanted too. Now _he_ felt guilty about the whole thing. He couldn't believe he had put El all in to this crazy mess.

He felt so sorry. But he also felt very dizzy by now. The medicine was making him weak. Every time he started to move he felt himself falter in to some kind of blissful oblivion. He wanted to sleep. But he couldn't let his wife behind like this. All he could do right now was apologize to her. For him being so rude leaving her al alone while he was being mister comatose for so long.

_Alone…_ what was that odd feeling rushing by when he thought about that word? _Alone…_

Peter forgot his wife for a second. He anxiously began to squirm around on his bed, thinking about_ that_ _something_ he had forgotten. _Or someone._

"El? Hon? Could you tell me what I can't remember, please. There is more… I know it…"

He knew there was more. Besides his bad state, El didn't tell him the worse part.

She nodded at him but her face was getting gray from sadness.

She felt a lump rise in her throat and suddenly had the urge to sigh deeply. Without thinking about it, she took the cup of water Peter's extendable table and drank it empty. Peter tried to follow her movements but ended up with squinting eyes and had to exhale deeply as an attempt to lower down the dizziness.

"It's about Neal… I am surprised you didn't even had mentioned his name ones…"

His mind wasn't working right. He should have known Neal was involved , somehow!

"What? El, what happened to Neal?" he asked anxiously. But deep in his heart he felt a horrible feeling. He didn't know what it was that made him feel so damn uncomfortable, but he knew that the news that will come, will clearly destroy him. He saw it in his wife's eyes.

"Diana was sure that he was with you when it happened. The anklet signal was interrupted after the explosion. T-the paramedics haven't found Neal, Peter. They stopped searching after one week." Elizabeth's eyes were piercing his hazy brown ones. The heart rate machine bleeped like crazy, right now.

"Peter… N-Neal is ..." El now burst into tears and Peter blinked up at her in shock. His eyes blew wide.

Some of the moments, that particular day, flashed by. He saw the fire. He saw the heavenly crystal weeping sky. The mess. The dust. And…

Then he saw a face. Neal.

He remembered now!

He was smiling at him. It was the last thing Peter could remember. Neal smiled.

He had a smiling face, full of dust, blood, glass and tears. And, maybe it where the drugs inside of his system, he also remembered his eyes.

He was blinded from the blast!

Peter must have fallen into some kind of shock because he couldn't move anymore. He started shivering. And his wife called his names several times. Then a nurse walked in. He heard El weeping and apologizing with a sad voice. She left him. She left the room.

Making way for the other nurse that walked in.

But all Peter could do was shook his head in fear.

"Neal cannot be death. He always runs away from everything. He is fast and clever. And maybe even smarter than me. Neal isn't death. Neal is okay. Neal is okay…" It was like a mantra. He went on and on. Until one nurse had given him a serine of Haldol. And he slowly faded away.

_Neal wasn't death._

_Neal was okay…_

_He was!_

…_He so hoped he was…_

…_Neal…_

…

...

Mozzie had been in Neal's apartment for several days now. He hadn't said a word since Diana and Jones and told the bad news to June. Mozzie was with June, at that time. Since that day he wasn't himself anymore. He fell quiet. And didn't leave Neal's apartment. After all Neal was his only family. His only friend. Now he was left alone. June didn't know what to do with him. She told her staff to bring him food now and then. She even did it herself every now and then. But the guy was devastated. A single hug from her couldn't safe him. Neal died. And Mozzie died with him.

How should you react too something like this? It was so unfair. Neal was a thief. A genius conman. And sure he had probably built himself some sort of a Karma over the years. But Neal was also a good hearted young man. He did his share of bad, but he also did a lot of good things too!

So why did he have to die? Or even better: Why did he have to die, just like his girlfriend Kate did?

It was just too heartbreaking…

…

A couple of days ago a homeless man walked down the streets. Moonlight was shining brightly this night. He always liked that sight the most. A bright sky. Thousands of stars, blinking down at him. A full moon. If he had a full stomach it would have been his best day, like that last one, since summer 2012. Then he found a wallet. And he could hire a room for two days. But that was long ago…

He wasn't a bad person.

His name was Paul. Age 46, by now.

He had a nice vest. He had a nice pants, too. But what he didn't have were shoes.

Paul used to be a farmer. But his farm burned down.

For some reason he thought that as he moved into the big city it will be alright, again. But it didn't. He went from job to job and one day he was fired again because he was getting old. He was forced on the streets but had managed to stay alive like this for over two years now.

He was alright. He had friends. He even had pets. They were everywhere. Of course he was talking about the street cats.

At the end of this dark street one cat used to be there. Every now and then he came by and shared his food with the guy. But when Paul stood there, he saw something crawling on the floor. Something that wasn't a cat. Because that something had in fact very nice shoes!

"Hey! What are you doing here in the middle of the night, pal? You really shouldn't be here." He just wanted to see his face. But he wasn't going to do something to him. But the man grunted hard as he fell down on his knees, looking really pathetic. _This wasn't right_, Paul thought.

So he ran towards him. Not to steal is nice looking shoes of course. But to help the man out. He looked very… very drunk. The young man was getting up again, but wasn't able to hold himself fully up.

"Yo, buddy! What's with the party posture?" The swaying man startled and tried to walk away. But it looked very sad. Paul saw how thin and fragile the young man looked. He must have been starving.

"Hey, don't go! Stop man. Just stop. You look like your starving." Paul bit his lip. He had gathered two apples and a piece of bread today. But it seemed this guy needed it more.

"D-don't… C-come any closer… I-I… am v-very dangerous…" the younger man stuttered. At that he fell on his knees again. Two hands constantly grabbing his head as if he was hiding his face.

Paul didn't think twice. He walked towards the starving and weakened man.

He has to be very drunk or very lost to look like that. The young man was panting hard and shivered hard. He even started to falter back on to the ground.

"Oh wow, what's with you, kid. You look like you were in a car accident!" Paul felt sorry for the guy. He cupped his filthy face, when the young man dropped his head like it weight a ton.

"Need… phone… P-please…" the young man moaned weakly. More he couldn't do. He just went out.

"Wow! Easy there, kid. Looks like you need more than an apple to me. You need a doctor."

His hands stroked the messy curly hair. Something wet smeared his palm.

And damn! There was a lot of blood!

* * *

**AN: Wowwwwww that was a big chapter! I hope you liked it.**

**Please review. I worked hard this day, to make a chapter for you guys! :)**

**X**

**Josie**


	3. Chapter 3

It was actually a bit strange that something as simple as writing a text on a _'get-well'_ card could cost you so much trouble. What the hell could you write to someone who has just lost his best friend and partner?Although. June knew damn well that a get well card was just a formal wont to give someone your best wishes and hope for a speedy recovery.

But nothing came to mind.

No card with sweet words could heal the deep wounds that were caused by the death of Neal Caffrey. No one was able to fix this. Only time could do that. June knew how that goes. When her love of her life died she thought that she was never be able to laugh or even smile again. But how much you missed your husband, time will heal your heart eventually.

So the card… What shall she write to this poor man?

…

"_Get well soon! _

_I'm glad you're not brain dead, as everyone thought you would be."_

…

"My God, June," she muttered to herself. "Keep your mind straight, girl. It's only a card."

'The only way a card would be able to heal everything was in fact a card written by the former conman Neal himself,' June realized. What will he write then?

June let herself rest on the back of the chair as her mind started to wander. What will Neal write to Peter?

…

_"Get well, Peter._

_If I was you right now, lying in there in that hospital bed with the same condition you are in, you would simply joke to me: _

_Oh cowboy up, Caffrey. You'll lucky to be alive!_

_But I am not you. _

_So what I want to say to you instead is:_

_That hopefully you will be quickly on to your feet again! you'll have to. _

_Because otherwise, you will never catch me if I run away!_

_;)_

_Kind Regards,_

_(Your biggest pain in the ass.)_

_Neal."_

…

A little chuckle escaped from June's mouth, and sighing deeply as she put down her pen on the table, ones again. This led to nothing. Her mind was too damn unfocused at the time. Some images flashed by in her head from the moment she had met the young con for the first time. It was at that second hand shop. Almost immediately she wanted to take him home with her. It was that damn smile on his lips, reminding her of her deceased husband. Bairon had the same kind of smile. And ones that slightly younger version of the Neal now had put on that head, she knew. This man would be causing her much more trouble that she could handle. And she liked that idea even better. She was old and yet, way too young for a boring life on her own. She had giving that young man an apartment. Didn't even care about the rent. She just was happy with the idea she had helped a young man out. And helped herself a little too._ I mean, have you seen his eyes? He looked like a little angel. A piece of art._

Unconsciously, her eyes wandered to the stairs that led to Neal's apartment. His stuff. That nice painting that wasn't finished, yet. And never ever will be, again. And the wine… Speaking of… _Mozzie!_ ... That poor guy is still sitting there all by himself ... she should make him come down here, at some point. What he did in there, locking himself up in his total misery, wasn't right. She should do something. Maybe she have to let him talk again. June shook her head in sadness and peered through her darkened living room. At the counter stood a pitcher full of freshly brewed coffee and she decided to take a cup, hopefully that might brighten up her mind a bit. Because she have to write something on that damn card soon. The visitor hour starts over 30 minutes. And she promised Peter's wife she would come visiting that poor agent. Elizabeth counts on her.

June was about to stand up to pour herself some cup of delicious coffee when she suddenly heard the door open from Neal's apartment. With a surprised look she turned herself back with a jerk to glance at the stairwell.

It was Mozzie.

At last the poor man reappeared, again. A warm feeling caught her heart and a gentle smile appeared on her glowing cheeks. Immediately she had forgotten about that stupid the card and she walked with light steps to the bottom of the stairs.

"Mozzie, you can't imagine how happy It makes me to see you coming out of that room."

She wanted nothing more than pool this man into one warmhearted embrace. Not only because she was excited about him coming down from the stairs, but also to hug him because he was playing brave, to get over his friends death. He was making that first step she had made years ago when her husband died.

The _first step_ to move on with his own life was the hardest.

She knew how hard that was.

So she waited downstairs with open arms. Waiting for him to come receive her earned loving energy.

But Mozzie didn't want a hug.

It was the fierce look in his big eyes that kept the distance between her and himself. Those big empty and yet bright eyes behind his thick glasses. It had made him appear taller somehow. Her hands were slowly falling along her sides again.

June blinked hers' because she didn't know what to do with it.

"June," Mozzie said fiercely. As if he was planning to say something very important, but couldn't find the right words. That was something he never did. He was always so good with words. His eyes darted al over the place, without ever catching the eyes from the elderly women.

It was an awkward moment. Mozzie was still visibly broken. He was still very sad and unsure of himself. Even when he said her name strongly, his voice was very shaky. As if he was about to cry.

She never thought Mozzie could be so devastated like this. He wasn't actually the biggest bag of emotional feelings of the world. Sometimes he even said so himself. When he was shot near the heart one day he said to her that the man had missed his heart only because he didn't had one.

But he had! A very shy and yet big one, underneath his conning straight face. It was just broken too many times and his heart had hidden himself from other people because of that. And when someone had finally earned his trust, he showed it.

She knew. She always knew about these things.

About men and their hidden hearts. June had met too many of that kind, in her life.

A flash of memory came in her mind. It was about Mozzie.

She had seen him in collapse when agent Diana and agent Jones came to her house to tell what had happened. Sure she was as shocked as anyone else by hearing this! But June didn't cry at ones. She took care of Mozzie. She saw the man turning white and he fell down on his knees. As soon as the grieving agents left she took Mozzie upstairs. The first night Mozzie was in total shock. June was so scared that he might be in this state forever. She was about to call a doctor when Mozzie suddenly grabbed her hand to stop her. He shook his sorrow head twice. And that was about it. She had given the man an extra blanket to warm his icy cold body from the shock. She even kissed his forehead ones to wish him goodnight, like she had done ones for Neal too, when he was running a hell of a fever. But that was about it. More she couldn't do. Mozzie didn't let her do more for him. He locked himself in that room for a long time.

And here he was again. Standing tall, shaved, and dressed like his old self. She was very proud.

A few minutes had passed when June suddenly realized that Mozzie was still standing there. Wanting to say something, but still couldn't find the right words, somehow. So June finally helped him a little.

"Yes Mozzie. I know what you want to say to me. And I understand. It's okay." She said with her kind old-ladylike voice. Finally she managed to grab the man's hands and squeezed them fondly.

One moment that mans' shoulders tensed up at that touch, but that slowly faded away. And his eyes closed one moment. June smiled. Another moment had past. But then Mozzie's eyes shot open. He pooled his hands away from the elderly lady. The bald man acted like a lost little boy. But it was okay.

"I want to visit Mr. Suit. Now, if that is possible," he finally answered. The firmness in his voice made him appear strong and large again. And June looked at him for a moment before she let out a relieved sigh.

"But of course, Mozzie. I was just about to go there myself. I'll get my coat."

After the accident with Peter and Neal, June went to the hospital twice, to go visit agent Peter. In that early state the poor agent was still in a critical coma stated condition. The odds where not really reassuring. The early indication of brain damage, from the shortage of oxygen, had made it appear that Peter would never wake up again. And if he did he might as well be catatonic for the rest of his life. The next visit she made, El was there. Her eyes were filled with tears of what she just had heard, back then. The doctors weren't too positive about the sorry state of Peter's health. His brain activity had slowed down at some point. And that had been very demotivating for his wife. Nevertheless, El was a strong woman and still was convinced that Peter would wake up again.

Mozzie never did come along with her. Mozzie hadn't even shown some interest in the agent condition ones, as June came home from the visit.

Therefore, it made June so happy and proud that Mozzie finally came along. It was about time, too. Elizabeth was starting to ask about him from over the phone.

"Alright. Let's go," June said as she found her coat. Mozzie had opened up the door for her and closed it when they were both outside.

As they walked to a big blue car, Mozzie smiled a little at the fresh air. It made June smile as well.

_Silly man. Neal has a balcony of his own. Why didn't you open that glass door when you had the change?_

June didn't even realize that she had forgotten something that she ones thought It was very important. That damn "_get well soon"_ card.

Finding her words on the right time at the right place was more of her thing than write something down, anyway.

...

Mozzie was a sneaky person. Even in his broken state, he had some kind of a plan on its own. He had it all planned out. As soon as he was in the hospital he would charm himself_… well… charm wasn't the best word for it… _but he would find a way to look into the administer list of all the names who were admitted here in the hospital. He wasn't looking for that particular name. Just the John Doe's who were brought in from the day Neal had died until now. And maybe. Just maybe, he was here.

Maybe Neal wasn't death. Only just misplaced. And unnamed.

…

El had never known this about Peter. But the last few days she had spent at the hospital with her husband, Peter told her over and over again that he always wanted to be a fireman when he grew up. And that he was glad he didn't chose that path considering he hated fire from now on. He laughed at that. And she laughed with him but, wasn't sure Peter even meant it about wanting to be a fireman. All she knew about Peter's younger version was that he was a good baseball player. But hurt his arm. His arm was the only thing that stopped him for being a professional. She thought it were the effects from the heavy drugs in his system. He was still on a lot of pain meds for his legs and chest that prevented him for being his old self.

And again, the doctors still weren't sure if his loopy state were all drugs, or just the brain damage. Everyone hoped for the best. But it was damn well clear that Peter still had a lot of recovering to do.

Peter just stared to doze off when June and Mozzie walked in. At first Elizabeth was surprised to see Neal's best friend for the first time after the accident. The man looked horrible. But from his point of view he would say the same about her. They both nodded. And then June began to speak.

"Elizabeth. Hi, dear. How are you holding up? You look exhausted." The elderly women cupped her face end El hugged her with a sigh. "Better, I guess. Peter is still in en out of consciousness. But he talks a little more, eats a little food. But that is about it." Then all the eyes went to the sleeping man covered in a white colored hospital skirt. He slept peacefully as his heart rate beeped steadily. June walked closer to greet Peter with a soft touch on his hand. Elizabeth exhaled deeply as she looked down on the always nervous looking bald guy. "Mozzie, my condolences for Neal. I-I don't know what else to say." Mozzie just nodded. "I am very sorry about Peter, too. Elizabeth. I must say… I admire your strength. To be able to stay as strong and stable as you are, now. Mr. Suit is a very lucky man to have a wife like that; still able to care about others despite her own feelings."

Elizabeth blinked her eyes at the man. That was so sweet of him to say. So she nodded gratefully. Her eyes were beginning to sting from the upcoming tears.

"I miss him a lot, too, you know. Neal, I mean. Every time I think of him… I see his smile. His big blue eyes. Those curly dark hair. And those silly hats." Mozzie suddenly felt very uneasy about her words and looked up at the big clock above Peter's heart monitor. It was past lunchtime.

"Mrs. Suit. I-I mean _Elizabeth_. Seriously, you look like you could use a cup of coffee. And maybe something to eat, too. I will be back soon. my treat," and he went away.

On his way to discover if Neal was still alive. And might be even here at the same hospital building as they were in now…

…

_TBC._

…

_**AN: Thank u everyone for so many reviews and personal messages! I am shocked of how many people actually like my crap! Did you also like this chapter? I will promise to update as soon as possible but I never post something that I don't like, yet. So that's why the chapters may take a while. Oh and just one little thing. If you see a grammar mistake that makes you wanna kill a puppy. Don't do it! Just tell me what I did wrong and I will fix it. I am Dutch and still make a lot of writing mistakes :P**_

_**X **_

_**Josie**_


	4. Chapter 4

The world could be a harsh place, sometimes.

And it doesn't even matter how big the city is and how mixed al the cultures were. People are always divided into groups. The rich will be forced in to the expensive places. The poor on to the other site, of course. And it didn't bother much, because, hell, that's what people do. Even in a group of the same category there was an Alpha, an Omega and everything in between. It was just a natural act of living in a big society. Not only in New York. But also in Kansas too.

We were nothing more than wolves. And even those kind of hairy creatures lived much nicer with each other, sometimes. When someone in there pack was hurt, they would take care of him. If one hadn't be eating for a while because he was recovering from a disease, a friend will share his food with him. Sure, there has to be a boss somewhere. A leader of the pack. An Alpha. Sure there had to be an Omega. But they understand their places.

Not like the humans do, these days. Like we were disoriented by al that fast food, al that piece of junk the kids carry around, all those lights and plastic cards. So much stuff and so little time to spent their hard earned money.

An empty life caused by to many things that aren't important at some point. But you will only know these things if you were living on the streets for a while.

The media always want you to do stuff. Buy stuff. To be the same as everyone else. They want you to get dependent on technology and other contaminated needs. So you would be harmless and docile; so you could be helpful in the population.

Occasionally, an outsider would be praised or destroyed. An outsider would be called a hero or a weirdo. It totally depends on your charm, though. If you were young and pretty you could be anything. But if you were getting older, and actually even don't give a rats ass about your looks anymore, you was as dead as the street cat's to them. _Them_; those people.

It was all about the appearance these days.

When Paul came to New York City he thought everything was possible. It supposed to be the biggest multicolored state on Earth. You could be everyone. You could do everything. And most of all you could start all over and begin a new life here!

But now, he knew he was just too naïve back then.

The bigger wasn't always the better. The big City had destroyed him. He doesn't belong here. He was a farmer. Not a monkey in a suit.

So, sure you could be an outsider. But only if you look cute and fluffy. Of course you can be a jerk too, but only if you had those dazzling eyes.

Everyone loved to be a little different, a little special.

And it was okay to be ugly, but then your personality had to be very extraordinary to count in this population. It is okay to be fat, too. But you had to have a special skill, like a great voice, to balance the whole thing.

Well… Of course Paul was thinking way to black and white. Too depressed and exasperated. But when it came to his terms; he was _right_.

They saw a drifter, a homeless old man when they looked at him.

But he was also a good farmer.

He had some kind of a connection with all sorts of animals. He understood them.

Even more than humans. But he never hated people. He only watched them hate each other.

He himself was friendly and kind. He also knew what sharing was.

Paul even could undo the buttons from his vest with his toes, for the fun of it.

But he looked like crap. Paul was getting old and beardy. Looked like a piece of junk. Had no money, no good food or even a good place to crash at night. But he had a big heart. He was healthy and good minded. Had friends, and all of his teeth. So, now he thought of it… he was actually kind of rich, without that money part, of course.

It was only too bad that nobody cared.

Because people always made their decisions based on what they saw. If you looked as bad as he did, or as filthy as his new friend (hanging heavily on his shoulder for support right now), no one would actually care about you. Even if you were injured.

They'd finally made it through the ER, but the crowded hallways weren't exactly reassuring. There was so much going around that made Paul feel a little uncomfortable. There was misery everywhere.

"If only I could sing like Sinatra. That will lighten up the atmosphere around here." He smiled too his friend and that made the kid a little more aware for his surroundings.

"Ha! You know that name right? So, not all of your wires are fried, then." The younger man nodded his bloody head and before he could answer Paul he coughed ones.

"I know his songs," a weak voice came out of his mouth. And Paul started to laugh out loud.

"Well be damned. So you don't know your own name but you can remember some old songs from a dead singer?"

The wounded guy wavered on his feet again. It wouldn't take long for him to pass out on him, again. He did it twice since he dragged him over to this hospital.

Paul lowered his friend in one of the hospital seats and everyone around backed away. Yeah… he knew he smelled bad. At least it had given him a free seat, too. He slowly pushed his friends head against the wall to look at his battered face. Now that there was more light he was finally able look at his face. An unpleasant feeling rose up from his stomach when he took in those nasty looking cuts, bruises, and several profound head wounds. The wounds looked old and the skin around those injuries were starting to swell slightly. Besides al this the man looked very thirsty and starved. But what worries Paul the most where, in fact, his eyes. The kid had never opened them since he had found him like this. But given the swollen eyelids, it wasn't that weird after all.

He watched the younger man closely when he started to squirm in the hospital bench. He shook his head dizzily after a low moan. Paul knew the man must've running a fever by now. The wounds looked infected. Sweat was forming on his filthy forehead and Paul felt even worse. Maybe he must leave him here. They won't help him if he was around. He knew that already. So he exhaled deeply before saying "Well, kid. I'm gonna leave you here. No one is gonna save you unless I will go away. It is not personal, man. People just don't like me being around, that's all." And to his surprise one hand was grabbing his elbow.

"N-no… P-please, sir. Don't leave me here. I-I am lost… Need phone…. Have to call someone… please…" that was about all the kid had said to him, over and over again. And Paul had already wasted a damn quarter on this delirious man. On their way to the hospital they came across a phone booth. And the kid went wild about calling someone. He had mentioned that earlier, So Paul fed the phone with one quarter and asked the young man what the number was from that _someone_ he desperately was trying to reach. And the kid just didn't remember. Even the man's name he couldn't say. But it was a man. That was about all the kid could tell.

_A man_. So he wasn't all alone. He had a friend somewhere else. And he'll bet that someone was worried about him.

"Uhm… ghnn," the kid moaned as he stomped with his feet in agony. That made Paul's head furrow with worry.

"What's wrong, buddy? You need to go pee or something? No guess not… Hey hey hey. Stop squirming around like that. It will only leave you dizzier than you already are." Paul watched the kid carefully.

Again, those shivering hands got up to his face and gently touched his puffy eyelids.

"E-eyes are… b-burning. I-it hurts…" the kid moaned. And Paul nodded. Yeah. That was his cue, right there. He should look for a doctor. The man was getting sicker and he needed help. The kid didn't deserve to die.

"Yeah, they do look bad, kid. Just… just wait here a moment, okay? I go find our self a doctor." The man moaned again as he let his hands fall on his lap again. His shoulders were slumped down from exhaustion.

"O-okay… Peter…" the kid stuttered. And Paul just smirked. "No, man. It's Paul, remember? You keep calling me Peter." He waved his hand almost immediately as if he wanted to say '_why do I still bother that little thing_?' And he walked down the hall to the reception desk. Leaving the man behind for a moment.

And when that had happened, a nurse came out of the coffee break room. At first she walked right past him, humming a recognizable tune, and Neal perked up. She must of seen the poor looking guy perk up at her humming and she walked back to whatever she was drawn to.

But when she saw his ugly wounded looking face she almost yelped out loud.

"Oh my goodness, Sir? A-are you alright? When did you come in?" she knelt beside him to make some kind of eye contact. But then she realized that his eyes were swollen shut by an angry looking infection.

"No… I-I am not…" Neal answered in total misery. "C-can't see. Am lost… need… to call… please." The nurse had already felt the fever on the man's less wounded cheek. In a fast motion she stood up from the ground and took up a phone. "This is Nurse Jeana Willings, and I have a man here that needed immediate medical attention. Hall 6 at the door." When Jeana had made that call she took her place back a front of the young man. Her hand was stroking his arm to give him some kind of comfort. "It is going to be okay, sir. Help is on the way."

"Don't forget about Peter, miss. He is s-still looking for a doctor… i-is n-not welcome…. He said…" Neal's voice trailed off as his head fell back against the wall. He coughed three times. "You….y-you like Sinatra too?" he said before he went out with a weird kind of smirk on his face. And Jeana didn't know what it was about this young drifter. But he sure was charming. Besides his battered face and all.

* * *

When Paul walked back with a plastic cup of water for his friend, to tell him nobody was there to help him, he found himself staring at an empty bench. Some cleaning staff were mopping the floor, where the kid had been sitting. An old women looked up at Paul when she felt him staring a hole in her back.

"What are you looking at?" the dark skinned women said angrily. Paul squeezed his cup a little.

"Where did my friend go? He was just sitting right there." Paul pointed at the now empty bench. He saw the mud and blood smearing the plastic seat.

"Oh, he's just been admitted, sir," a younger women said. She was holding a bucket and started to clean the seat right away. Her eyes were already back to her job.

For a moment Paul just stood there. Looking at his cup of water. Then he grinned and drank it empty as he realized that young man would be fine, now. He would be okay. They will take care of him.

This was for the best.

And he left that building with a strange kind of sadness. He probably would never know who or what had happened to that kid. But that kid was nice. He had a good heart. He knew that, somehow.

And he walked away... back to that ally where his other friend awaits.

He still had a piece of bread to share.

* * *

TBC…

_**AN: Was that fast or not?:P I had a day off and thought why not another chapter. So, there it was. Neal was saved by a drifter. And somehow he had managed to charm his way in to the ER, despite his ugly face. Too bad he doesn't know who he is, yet. Let's just hope Mozzie will find him soon!**_

_**Review and I will sing a song! Oh wait… I can't sing! Well… Review anyway!**_

_**X**_

_**Josie**_


	5. Chapter 5

Perhaps it wasn't quite as easy as he'd thought it would be, but so far everything went smoothly.

Although, the computer was only abandoned for a short period of time and the receptionist wasn't really that same sweet and shy young girl that he saw when he and June walked by. In fact, the other replacement was huge. And very scary. _If you asked him_.

Moreover, the computer was to slow and very old, the mouse was sluggish and the keyboard didn't work optimal. And that made his 'snooping' very complicated.

It took only five minutes, at most, when Mozzie had found what he was looking for.

The hospital-list of all the patients that where admitted 15 days ago, until now. Mozzie was shocked how long that list actually was. 800 people, at least! So there was a lot of chance Neal could be one of them. This hospital was the closest from the accident and there always was a chance he came in here by himself.

He would do the same. Come in the hospital alone, under a false name. If everyone thought he was a death man they stopped looking for him. And as soon he was released from the hospital, he would a free man, again. Mozzie was almost sure this was what Neal was doing. Con everyone, including him, to be free again. An accidental coincidence.

But it was only one little theory where Mozzie was working on. Because… Neal was a good man. Was he able to leave everyone in sorrow for his freedom? Was he able to let them think he died as a hero, or something like that? Leaving al his loved ones behind. June, Elizabeth and Peter…

Mozzie sighed deeply and looked at his watch.

He didn't have enough time to read the list here, so he quickly started to print them out.

And that was when that large woman came back.

"What. The. Hell. Are you doing there, sir?"

Shivers ran down his spine. Mozzie just froze in terror. He had no time to recover from the startle when the older woman placed a firm hand on his shoulder. For a moment he remained in his awkward bend position by the printer. "Well," he started with a tense voice. He blinked hard when he was thinking hard what to say next. Finally he had realized something about this woman. She looked, and sounded, exactly like his caretaker, back from his orphanage days. Maybe that was what scared him so much about her.

After a while he slowly straightened his back and lifted his chin slightly. It was time to con himself out of this situation. But first he had to stall here until the printer was done.

"Listen, ma'am. What I am doing here is the exact point of where I came to talk with you." The printer finally starting to work when Mozzie slowly turned himself to the woman. Again he was surprised by the fact that this receptionist becomes very large and intimidating when she was so close to him. And he certainly had to swallow hard, ones or twice, before he pulled a business card from his pocket.

Meanwhile the huge woman looked at him with piercing eyes. Obviously not quite impressed by him.

"Carl Masters, Senior Assistant from the insurance company department. Your boss called me this morning to check up on the security of sensitive information of the patients. There were some complaints." When the business card was emerged the older woman raised an eyebrow and growled unimpressed. "My boss called? Seriously? From Italy?" Her arms folded casually over each other and she gave Mozzie an unbeliever-grimace.

This was going to be difficult, Mozzie thought.

"He said you would act this way, ma'am. And I am afraid I have to report that. Just like that little incident I've seen a moment ago." Again the woman raised an eyebrow.

"What incident?" she asked bluntly.

"I am not impressed by your negligence, ma'am. When you was away, I had the opportunity to look at the way you approach the visitors and when you decided to leave this desk unattended, I was kind enough to make some adjustments in your computer security settings. Someone else could've made use of this highly sensitive information about the people who are patients here, fighting for there lives." The woman blinked.

"What the hell? I was just going to the loo." She shrugged nonchalantly, and that was the moment that Mozzie's paper dropped from the printer on the catch rack. He held it up so the receptionist could give it a good view. Her eyes widened.

"Exactly. That little visit to the loo was long enough for me to print a list of some patients and change the whole security settings."

That was apparently enough for her to give a crap. Her nonchalant expression disappeared like snow in the sun. Her arms flopped down her body as she looked at the bald man.

"My God. I never thought about it."

"Exactly. It seems to me that you are not taking your job very seriously. What you do here, is important. You suppose to protect and guide people there way. You are the first contact that people see when they heard someone they love got injured and hospitalized in here. Don't you forget that, ma'am. You have a big purpose here." Mozzie's conning voice softened at some point when he realized he just said something very touching that made the big woman's eyelids flutter a couple of times. She nodded and smiled as she thanked him. _When he did become this person?_ Mozzie thought amazed. _I guess the devastating news about Neal's death had awoken his heart, at some point. _

"Well, seems to me that everything is in order again. If you're planning to leave the computer, please click on the screen-lock below. And when your back, use the code that I left on your desk. Have a nice day."

"Okay. Thank you Carl," the woman repeated again.

Mozzie crumpled the paper and swapped it with another plug, so it seemed that he threw away the list of names. A simple trick he used several times. And it worked every time. Without a second time to make eye contact Mozzie ran on to the elevator and unfolded the wad of paper hastily.

This was the moment of truth.

_Was he right about Neal? Was he here under a false name? One that he could recognize? Or was he so beat-up that he didn't know his own name and brought, or walked on his own, here under the name of John Doe?_

Everything went through his head.

Imagine that Neal really was deceased.

Imagine that he was wrong about everything…

Imagine that his instinct had lied to him and Mozzie was conning himself this whole time?

That will be bad... really bad…

...

**AN: Sorry for the holdup! But I was typing sooo hard in my own language to make this story in to a nice end. Now that's done, I can focus completely on the translating part:) Believe me that's so hard! but I love to share my overloaded brain with you guys! Thanks to everyone who love to read my crap! I am honored! Review what you think of this chapter and I promise the next one will be up soon!**

**X**

**Josie**


	6. Chapter 6

It was to be expected.

From the moment Mozzie had excused himself and hurried out of this room, without even take a look at the sleeping man, June began to doubt about her thoughts about Mozzie.

Sure, the man always seemed nervous. Especially in a place like this, given his hosophobia. But the she should've known that Mozzie was up to something.

She was slightly embarrassed about the fact that she thought he was getting better (or at least had made an effort into the good direction). Sure it was a big step for the bald guy, when he decided to come along too. And see the Burkes, without any trouble of what so ever.

But she had to admit. It was a little odd. Especially when Mozzie almost instantly ran out of the room, when he had the chance.

June chuckled a bit.

Maybe Mozzie made her a little bit paranoid too. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Mozzie was up to something.

Perhaps this visit was all a big lie to achieve something else. That made her lips pressed together like a thin line. She knew this kind of men. She knew about Mozzie, too. That man was looking for some answers on its own. But what kind?

Opposite from her to the other side of the bed sat Elizabeth. She was watching her closely from her spot on the chair, as June suddenly caught a glimpse of her bright pale blue eyes.

"June? What is going on in your head? You seem troubled," Elizabeth said softly, trying not to wake her husband as she strokes his hand. June looked up at her with flashing eyes. She made an apologetic shrug and smiled kindly.

"Nothing, honey. It's just that ... Mozzie ... he is taking his time, don't you think?" She took a hand of the younger woman and laughed softly. El was satisfied with that answer and laughed too.

"I know exactly what you mean. Every time he comes to our home for some tea and chitchat I search the whole house afterwards, to see if everything is still there." June nodded her head, but her eyes wandered down to her hands. There was a pauze.

"Mozzie was devastated, you know... I have deep concerns about that poor man." Elizabeth sighed and wanted to reply to the older woman, until she suddenly was interrupted by a loud yawn.

The man between them began to move softly. Immediately there was a tense atmosphere in the small room. Although, it seemed that the man just tossed a little in his sleep and eased down immediately after. But when El was convinced Peter was fast asleep again, and wanted to give him a kiss, two turbid eyes shot open. His body was light gray colored and to be honest, Peter looked very shaky and weak today, even worse than the day before. That concerned her.

"Hon, everything okay?" She stroked his warm cheek and gave the kiss she wanted to give him earlier, this time on his dry lips. Peter stared at her for a long time until he was a little brighter, or at least a little less sleepy.

"You're beautiful," he hastened with a sincere smile on his face. Then he blinked his eyes because apparently he felt that they weren't alone. June was on the other side of the bed and smiled as Peter looked at her in shame. "Coffeesource Landlady?" Peter blurred out from the heavy drugged they had given him from his severe chest pains. She chuckled at that.

"Hello Mr. Burke. Good to see you again, with your eyes open." She put her friendliest smile on him to ease up the tension and stroked his arm a moment before she pulled herself back from the loving energy that Peter and his wife shared together. However, Peter still stared at her in a confused look.

"June, h-how long have you been here?" Peter asked, now a little more alert. June looked at Mrs. Burke and nodded, signaling that she should leave them alone for a while so she could find out what Mozzie was up too. Elizabeth nodded and gave a kiss on Peter's sleepy face at the same time.

"It's OK, hon. Take it easy. The doctor told you to take it very slowly, today. Remember? Your ribs need to heal." Peter lightly squeezed with his hand in the hand of Elizabeth when his eyes became cloudier, again.

"Isss ...good. B -But when I'm awake ... again…I need to tell you something about N-Neal ..." Peter said weakly. His words were slurred and quiet. But it sure left Elizabeth stiff with emotions.

This was the first time Peter was mentioning that name without being reminded of what had happened. Although, the doctors had advised her to never mention Neal at any time, while Peter was in this weakened state, because the last time she did, Peter almost died from a heart attack. Now, however, Peter seemed a bit calmer and more stable, or at least _more drugged_. And that made her slightly curious. Would he be able to tell her what he knew about Neal's death? She squeezed his hand back and again Peter happily blinked up at her.

"Hon? What do you know about Neal?"

At that Peter squeezed his eyelids with some force to be a little more awake. He wanted her to know what he had seen, so badly.

Then he licked his lips. That dryness was the side effect of the medication. And when he finally could speak, El came closer to his mouth.

"W-when everything went _kaboom_… I saw him… b-but he couldn't anymore… Neal… the blue was gone… Blind, El…" His voice trailed off after the last shocking word. _Blind_. And Elizabeth bit her lip. She dared not to let her husband see the fear and sorrow in her eyes. So she broke the intense gaze and shuttered a deep breathe.

"Alright. You… you should rest now. Y-you are still very weak. Sleep will do you some good." Some of her tears trickled down her cheeks when she heard a soft reply. It didn't take long for him to fade away into the blissful darkness.

And when Elizabeth finally could turn herself back to her husband she saw that Peter's cheeks were wet as well. Peter had cried a little, too.

Poor Peter.

He remembered it all…

...

After flashing his eyes over the long list of the first hundreds of unknown names, Mozzie was starting to panic. Suddenly his eyes were glued on the name P. Burke, room 246. He let out a deep sigh. Peter was in bad shape. He saw the legs, held up by some kind of harness. The weak heart rate. The gray skin. He looked much older. And smaller.

His shoulders slumped.

All this was so confrontational. All these names had their own story. Their own drama, family. Loss and grief. Sometimes a little happiness, too. Two women on the list were admitted to the maternity care, three days ago. They were going to give birth soon. Their names were Anna and Mandy. Let's just hope those baby's don't turn up to be cops or lawyers. He smirked at that one. That would make his life even more troubled in the future.

He went on with reading the names. Overlook them one by one.

And then, at the bottom of the list, Mozzie became well aware that there wasn't one single John Doe registered.

It were all names.

And even the name Neal wasn't in it. Or an alias Neal could've used, too.

This was terribly annoying.

Mozzie was so disappointed.

So disappointed that he could barely move, anymore. He remained there, standing frozen in the elevator. The paper was burning in his hands as he swallowed a big lump down his throat. His back was falling against the cold walls of the elevator and he leaned there. Some people from floor 2 stepped in and went to the ground floor. The elevator doors went shut, only to open up, again. Again some new people filled the elevator and each of them went their separate ways.

Mozzie stood there. He was thinking. He didn't get out of the elevator. He didn't go back to Peter eighter. He wanted to do _nothing._ Because everything he would do right now would confront him with _life_. Life that went on. Without his best friend.

He can't be death. He must've missed a name.

While the elevator went to floor 3 Mozzie wriggled with the list in his hands. _Another look, then._ Maybe he _had_ missed something.

And just as he started over, two nurses came in the elevator, with him. They chatted a bit. And Mozzie barely heard what they were talking about. Until something caught his attention.

"He sings when he's alone."

His eyes widen.

"The man says he cannot remember anything else than those old songs."

_What old songs?_

"Doesn't he have any friends or family? He looks so lonely," the smaller nurse said with a sad voice while she was hugging her clipboards. And Mozzie wondered right away if those were medical rapports from Neal.

"Nobody came by for a single visit, can you believe that? He is such a sweety," the tall and curly dark haired one said. She looked stronger somehow. The way she stands on her feet. And the way she talked while she tapped her fingernails onto her clipboards while looking up at the red changing numbers.

Mozzie fumbled with his paper again. But this time he did it in excitement. He stood up straight again and smiled a bit. The girls must've noticed him because they were talking quieter, now.

"And I overheard his doctor say that if his infection healed he would be admitted into the psychiatric ward until they could find out who he actually is."

"But I thought the man was a drifter? Are they put him back on the streets again if he recovers? He will never be able to live on the streets with those eyes."

_Those eyes?_ Mozzie frowned.

"I'm not sure. But if he recovers from that nasty infection, he can go home with me, girl," the curly nurse laughed with a naughty glance. The smaller one giggled with her.

When they left the elevator and Mozzie was alone, again, he pressed on number 3 with trembling fingers. This guy, where those nurses were talking about, that could be him.

It could be!

Quickly he searched though all the names on the list that were admitted on that floor. And then he gasped out loud! The paper in his hands started to shake in his hands! He readed it over and over, until he heard a _ping._

**Mr. Sinatra room 304.**

It had to be him! That was Neal! He laughed out loud while he felt a tear sting in his eyes. But he did not cry. He had never cried in his whole life.

The elevator stopped on 3th floor. Mozzie's heart pounded in his throat.

Room 346. Mozzie's legs began to tremble as he walked faster. Room 312. A horrible feeling bloomed in his abdomen. When he didn't find room 304 immediately he walked back down the hallway and found out that it was hard to find anything in this labyrinth of hallways. But when he did found what he was looking for, his heart stopped one moment. The door was closed. So, Mozzie knocked first. No one answered. So, Mozzie touched the doorknob with the paper and opened it quietly. Only to find out that the bed was empty. His jaw dropped.

_What was this? Some kind of alternative reality bullying dimension!?_

It made Mozzie ran around like a headless chicken, looking for the singing patient when he suddenly rushed past a obscured living room. For a moment he stopped.

The room was empty.

Except for one man.

A fragile-looking figure was sitting in the window frame. All alone. A light weak voice resounded in to the empty space.

Mozzie felt is heart skip a beat when he recognized the song. _Love is a many splendored thing_.

Neal's favorite.

His side profile was different, though.

Sharper and battered. But the jerking attitude that came with the words he sang gave it away. Like he was always in a hurry. Ready to run or hide, like a cat. Always on the edge. _That was his Neal!_

Although… he looked different, somehow. He remembered what the nurse had said. Those eyes. There must be something wrong with them.

While he was watching the young man from a distance, he felt himself tense up in fear.

Mozzie wobbled his weight from leg to leg, until he realized the man stopped singing. The younger man let his head fall forward as his whole body slumped tiredly against the window. The man stopped moving.

"Neal," he whispered with a trembling voice.

He rushed into the room. He felt so many things right now. Concern and gladness. Fear.

"Hey, kid. You okay?"

He only had to take a few more steps. But something slowed him down. The kid didn't respond to him. Mozzie anxiously looked around. There was no one here that could see him. And he took the last few steps with his heart thumping in his throat.

It was strange how syrupy the whole environment became. It was as if his body was struggling to get ahead. The last few steps to the, now unmoving, guy were heavy. Then, Mozzie let his gaze finally wander to that thing that stood next to the kid. It was a portable IV pole beside the boy with two sacks hanging on the hooks. Two transparent tubes were attached to his wrist. It made him feel uncomfortable stiff and weak at the same time.

"Neal?" Mozzie tried again. He was now standing affront of him. Slowly he knelt down to look at his face only to see that his entire face was covered with gauze. Even his eyes. Mozzie felt sick, thinking about how bad he was looking from underneath the gauze. Would he still be charmingly attractive? Or had the explosion left him shattered? Mozzie furrowed his head as he lay down a hand on the boy's shoulder. He could hear the man snore a little. Unbelievable! How could Neal fall asleep in this uncomfortable position? You would have to be very tired or very drugged sleeping in like this.

So he shook his friend a bit. "Neal come on, talk to me, kid. It's me. Mozzie." He felt the bones from under his grip and he sighed. "You surely dropped a few pounds," he murmured softly. Slowly the younger man moved away from Mozzie's touch and moaned in the proses as he straightened his back a bit. Two hands were grabbing up at his eyes and he dropped his hands almost immediately when he realized he could not touch them. They must've hurt pretty bad.

The man was dressed in a white hospital gown and white slippers. Over his gown he wore a big black vest that was maybe two sizes too big for him. _Where did he get that?_ Both hands lay now motionless on the man's lap again.

"S-stop ... staring ... Betty .. I can hear you," said the weak unrecognizable voice of the kid and finally there was a little more life in this fragile body.

"Y-you promised ... five ... more m-minutes ..."

That made Mozzie smile. The jerky attitude in the man's shoulder as he spoke, it was all _Neal_.

"What can I say. I'm not really surprised. You have reflexes like a cat, my friend. Even after the accident you are still able to _hear_ me staring." Mozzie laughed out loud and came closer to his friend to pull him into a big hug. _Al that tension flew away! He felt himself lighten up with happiness and joy. He was right! Neal was still alive! And he was right here a front of him!_

But the younger man screamed. His hands pulled him out of this sudden embrace as he winced at the sudden pain in his head. Both hands grabbed up at his head and he starts shivering.

"Nurse B-Betty… N-Nurse Betty!"

"Wow! Neal! … easy! Calm down. It's me. Your friend," Mozzie yelped.

He didn't expect much, this day. But he surely didn't expect Neal to be so scared of him, when he actually found the poor guy.

"Who?" The boy asked with an uncertain and thin voice. Almost as thin as his emaciated body.

Mozzie saw it now. His shoulders. His wrists. It was awful.

Those two weeks he was missing, had changed him considerably.

"Sorry. Sorry, man. I am so sorry. But please calm down. I am gonna call this nurse Betty for you." Neal shifted in the window frame and hugged himself for some protection.

"Yeah, you'll do that, mister… I almost ripped open my s-stiches, man." His head shook a little to the left and right. Trying to look around. As if he was forgotten he couldn't do that, with the bandages on.

Mozzie scrambled up and clapped his hands on his bald head in total shock. What should he do now?

"Hey! What's going on here? Are you abusing this poor man!" Mozzie looked up at the middle aged blond woman. She sure looked mad. But when the women started to talk, Neal was beginning to relax again. "Nurse Betty. What's going on? Can't see… Who is this man? I'm… I'm scared."

"Neal? ... I-It's Mozzie," mumbled very soft. His shoulders slumped forward.

Mozzie felt nauseous. He should have known. Back in the elevator, the nurses had already said the guy could only remember a few old songs.

This wasn't the Neal he knew.

This was patient Sinatra.

…

**AN: I was hoping no one knew I splitted the chapter 5 in two so I could make it all a little more exciting;) But here it is! Chapter 6. Neal is found by Mozzie. But it's not like he expected it would be. What now? What happens next? Find out soon an please keep those nice reviews up:D **

**Show me tha lovvveee! I will return it in this story soon! (don't forget about Paul)**

**X**

**Josie**


	7. Chapter 7

"Sir? Sir! Please leave! Can't you see that this poor man is frightened about new voices?" Mozzie felt like running but he didn't want to leave his friend. Not when he had just found him back. He should've say something like: _I know this guy!_ But his tongue felt numb.

Mozzie was so upset by his scared friend. It was so uncharacteristically of Neal. He'd never seen him like this.

Mozzie just stood there like a sack of potatoes, ready to be carried away by the security. Meanwhile, his friend crawled himself up like a shivering ball, thumping his fists against his ears like a four year old.

"S-sorry…. Sorry…" that was all Mozzie could say.

"Sir, if you're not leaving, now, I am afraid I'll have to call the security," the woman said a little softer. She meant what she said but somehow she had a heart that was big enough to care about the both of them. "He doesn't handle his blindness very well," Betty muttered as she looked fondly at her favorite patient. She walked past Mozzie, softly pushed him away, and kneeled down. Her hand was touching Neal's quivering shoulder and that sooth him a little. Mozzie took a few more steps away from them. But he couldn't turn his eyes away when Neal suddenly crawled in the nurse's arms and started to sob. It was so weird, sad and yet so heartwarming. The kid looked like a… well yeah… a _kid_.

_So that's it then. Neal was blind… Blind and amnesia… that explained it all… Poor Neal… He must of felt so lost._

"I-I am so. so sorry, Neal. I wish I could do something…" Mozzie blurred out. And he backed down.

Nurse Betty heard what the man said. And of course she heard the name _Neal_. It had gotten her attention. But when she looked up again, that bald guy was already gone.

If only Mozzie had seen that, or the face Neal pulled from under the bandages, he must've caught the confused look. Neal stopped sobbing. But he held his skinny arms still firmly around the nurse's neck for protection. From under the bandages his eyes moved a little. Then his small voice whispered in Betty's neck.

"W-who was that man?" he asked.

The nurse watched her patient ease down some more. And she finally broke the embrace. "I don't know," the nurse said, now looking very unsure of what she saw in the man's changing behavior. She frowned at him as she helped him on his legs. '_That guy,'_ she thought. _'He called him Neal.'_

"Let's get you back in bed, first. You need some fresh bandages, too. They are a little wet." Neal nodded weakly as he shuffled forward, while clutching into the IV pole. He was too tired to feel ashamed about his recent crying spell.

But his mind was filled with a weird kind of image he didn't understand. Because al he saw was a face of a brown eyed man, yelling at him. _Was this an actual memory?_

…

He was back in that damn elevator again.

Not even a single hint of happiness was left in his quivering body. My god! Neal was blind… That was horrible. What should he do? Neal's carrier was over. Neal was done. He could never paint again. Never work again, with Peter neither. _Oh my God! Will Neal be going back to prison, now? _

The elevator stopped at the 2th floor. Mozzie put of his glasses. Rubbed his stinging eyes and sigh deeply. He couldn't bring himself to get out of the small elevator room. He couldn't! If he did, he must go back to June, Elizabeth and Peter.

He should tell them what he just had seen. Although it scared him, he must tell this now!

He needed them. Neal needed them…

"Oh God," he moaned as the elevator doors slide open. _This was going to be very difficult_.

…

"Mozzie! There you are! Where have you been? Elizabeth and I were worried about you!" June fastened her steps towards the, now _extreme_, nervous looking guy. And as soon as June was close enough she gave him an all knowing glance.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" she whispered. Mozzie jumped a little by this assumption.

"You knew?" Mozzie muttered with widened eyes. June just shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, I had my suspicious when you didn't show up, again." Mozzie sighed deeply as his eyes stared at the floor. His shoulders hung forward. He suddenly was very tired. _Exhausted_ was the better word for it. The adrenaline had poisoned his body, and now all his muscles ache.

June saw the blood draining from his face, and she frowned.

"Mozzie, are you ever going to tell me what's going on," her hand landed on his shoulder and she immediately noticed that the man was trembling. Mozzie shook his head. "I-I don't know how to tell you this ... but I've seen him ..." Confused, the older woman blinked her eyes. "Who, Mozzie? What did you see?" Mozzie shook his head. "Maybe you should sit down first," Mozzie stammered. June frowned deeply. "You mean, you saw Neal?"

"Maybe I must sit first, then," Mozzie said under a shaky breath.

The man felt his knees grow weak and sought his place in one of those plastic hospital benches.

June lowered herself beside him with a worried look. A hand touched the man's forehead.

"Mozzie, you're getting hot. Sweetie. You're not going to be sick, are you? What happened? Tell me." Mozzie sighed. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he took of his glasses.

"... I saw him. And I scared the crap out of him. Nurse Betty send me away. She thought I was bothering him." He looked June tightly in her eyes.

"Patient Sinatra ... he's alive!" Now June drew a grimace.

"Frank Sinatra is alive?" Mozzie shook his head. "No."

June shrugged her shoulders.

"Sorry, Mozzie. But I believe that you should be a little more specific. Because I'm beginning to think you're a little... you know ..." she didn't dare to go further. But Mozzie got it loud and clear.

It made him a little mad, because he wasn't!

"I'm not crazy, June." He took in some amounts of air.

"It was Neal" Mozzie cried out and hit the hand of away from his shoulder.

This behavior made June a little confused. She wanted to say something but Mozzie stopped her with an up holding finger while he was pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his pants pocket.

"Look. Room 304. Mr. Sinatra. That's him! I saw him!" June gazed at the quivering name on the paper and dropped her jaw.

And _"Oh, dear…"_ was all she could say.

…

"Alright, mr. Sinatra, let me look at your face." Nurse Betty started to remove the bandages while Neal lay flat on his back onto the hospital bed. He was very tired and almost fell asleep when he suddenly felt a hard yank on his hair.

"Och," he yelped. His hands got up to his face but they were firmly grasped.

"Oh no, you don't. Sorry for the hair pulling, sweety, but your infection is starting to exudate. The bandages are sticking to your skin. It means that the swelling is finally getting down, but we need to be careful and let the wounds as clean as it gets." Neal felt the thumbs on his wrists caress a bit. He sight at the sweet touch.

"H-how do I look?" he suddenly asked weakly. Because he really didn't know.

At that he heard the nice nurse chuckle.

"With, or without your wounds?" Neal shrugged at that as he gave a sleepy sigh.

"B-both, I guess," he whispered. A smirk appeared on his lips. Then he felt a hand grasped his shoulder. Fingers squeezed in his skin.

"You don't have to worry about that right now, mr. Sinatra. Let's get you healthy first."

Some noises were made. Neal tried to recognize them. A draw shoved open. There was a crackling sound from a plastic back. Then a soft hand fell on his shoulder again.

"Don't panic. I am going to clean the wounds a little with disinfection lotion. It shouldn't hurt much. But if it does, just tell me, alright?" Neal gave a strong nod. But his hands were clinging into his covers. He heard another chuckle and he felt himself smile, too. But as soon as the light stinging lotion touched his skin Neal bit his lips. He wasn't a softy. But when you couldn't see, every sensation felt a little more intense. At least, that was what the others had told him.

"Hm. I can feel you glowing with fever. How are you feeling?" Neal felt nausea. Weak, cold, shaky and death tired, but worse of all… he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. He felt like he should _do_ something... But what? His mind started to wander.

"That man… He called me N-Neal… How did he look like? Did he got… uhm... brown eyes?" The hands that were working on his head stilled.

"He was bald and short. I didn't see his eyes because of the glasses. Why? Do you remember something?" the voice sounded very curious. There was a long silence between them Betty saw how the eyes rolled a little from under the puffy red eyelids.

"No… Only a yelling face of a brown-eyed man." Neal sounded very off. He was already drifting away. The poor young man did that sometimes. He was like a light switch that could turn itself on and off.

The man had a bad concussion, after all.

...

_**AN: What could I say right now? I'm very pleased that you are reviewing me so well:) It makes me wanna dance! but I can't. I have to work on this story in return for you guys:D did you enjoy this chapter as well? i know I did. Nurse Betty is so sweet:3 But Neal blind? ... that sucks! I hope they heal up nicely. see ya soon buddyyyy'sss**_

_**X**_

_**Josie **_


	8. Chapter 8

"I-I need to call someone… Please… I need to…" a voice came out in short huffs as the feverish man slept on. Doctor Kevin Walls was leaning over the bed as he tried to understand what the man was saying. Nurse Betty was at his side and explained that he did that once and awhile. Talking in his sleep, that is.

Betty had called the doctor in because of the increasing eye movements, after the event with the unknown bald man. His eye muscles were instantly starting to make a strong reappearance. And that was always a good thing. Since the treatment started to work and the swelling was going down she thought it was for the best if Mr. Sinatra's doctor took another good look at those eyes before she bandaged them up again.

"Alright, nurse, I think you'll better hold him down now. I am going to open those eyes a little bit. And I don't know if he can take it. This might hurt."

The doctor was a calm and out-balanced guy, in his early forties. He had a good way of handling with all sorts of traumatized patients, and that made him the greatest doctor on this wing. There wasn't a lot to know about this man. He likes to watch tennis on his free time and played ice hockey on Sunday's to get rid of the negative energy that grows on you from time to time. His hair was getting gray but it was still as thick as it used to be when he first started working here. He was always nice to the nurses and other personnel. He had a calm effect on the patients and worked his Mondays on the psych ward. He never talked about his family, or wife, or anything that hasn't had to do with his life after work. So no one really knew him that much.

"I got him. But, Kevin, if this is gonna hurt, shouldn't we give him something for the pain. He is quite sensitive."

"No need, nurse. I will be quick. Just keep him from jumping up. I'm ready." Doctor Kevin already had his little examination lighter ready. And as soon as he had put on his gloves he carefully moistened the eyelids with some lotion to open them up a little easier. And soon as Kevin touched Neal's face the sleeping man stirred.

"Easy, Mr. Sinatra. It's me. I just want to take a sneak peek at those eyes of yours." Neal let out a gulp but tried to ease himself down. He knew the doctors voice. So it was okay.

"Oh my. It looks like the cornea is ready to come off. He needs a transplant on his right one." Betty gave a nod as she stroked Neal's shoulders a bit. She knew this must've hurt. Because big tears were rolling over his cheeks. "Left one is still slightly infected. Also needs a cornea transplant. But it sure looks promising. As in, you can keep those eyes." Neal gasped at that. "W-what do you mean? Keep them? W-where y-you planning to take them out?" The young man started to squirm. His knees got up to his chin, but that was all he could do to protect his face. His shoulders were firmly pinned down to the matrass. "Ssssshhhh… Take it easy, or you will pull out the IV," Betty told him with her soothing voice. It always had an effect on him.

"We weren't sure from the beginning how bad it looked. The bacterial infection kept us from examining them further. But now, it seems that if you are fever-free, tomorrow, we can schedule you into surgery."

Neal stopped squirming and tilted his chin a little as if he wanted to look at the nurse for confirmation. She gave a fond chuckle. "Yeah, that's a good thing. Better than good actually. It means that you might be able to get a little sight back." Neal stilled for a moment. Then he let his head sink down on to his pillow, again. "Oh," he sighed relieved. Apparently, this was what it took for Neal to get drained from all his strength, again. The young man was ready to fall back in to his weird instant sleeping-mode.

…

Neal has been here in this hospital for only three days, now.

They knew so little about him.

And yet, they knew enough of him to be slightly amazed by his odd and interesting appearance.

Immediately after admitting him the man insisted that he didn't want to be a _John Doe_. Because the guy that he tried to reach so eagerly, couldn't found him otherwise. So that's way he was called _Sinatra_. _First mistake_. Because every registered John Doe was also directly indicated to the police, only to find people easier that way. No one shouldn't have listened to this delirious patient, at the time, to call him by a fake, and yet: _suiting_ name.

Apparently, someone _had _listened. Maybe that _someone_ thought that if this man was just a homeless young man no one cared about his name. _And that was the other mistake_. That was why Neal was still separated from his friends and his normal life. But about that friends-thing… well… this Sinatra fellow didn't like other people very much. Sinatra was very scared about everything and everyone.

So that's why Nurse Betty was assigned to Mr. Sinatra because the man couldn't function well without some normality. The young man was very anxious when he heard something he didn't recognize. And given is weakened, dizzy, blind and confused state, he had stay calm in order to heal better.

He also didn't want to eat the first two day's in the hospital, either. This was a clear sign of posttraumatic stress. This man clearly had been in a terrible accident, and no one really knew what kind of accident it was. Given the head trauma, cuts and bruises on his palms and knees, the man had been in some kind of impingement and must've hit the floor pretty hard. When he first came in he was covered with dust, mud, glass and grit. Everyone just assumed he was a drifter. A homeless man. Maybe because of the security footage that showed an actual aged homeless man, bringing him in. And Sinatra looked like one at the time, too…

If only someone knew who that other and older man was… If only someone had seen him, and thanked him, for saving this man's life. They would've let him spend the night or two here, next to Sinatra. And give him some food and maybe some new clothes. The basement was filled with it. And no one made use of it. They were just stocked up in boxes. Now… it was too late.

After the first night patient Sinatra showed some remarkable talents of his own, despite his severe injuries. He could recognize some expansive lady-perfumes right away, from the visitors walking by. And don't forget about the singing. He was a good performer. But every time someone caught him singing, he stopped almost immediately.

So, that's what they knew about this strange young man. This day he had met someone… And it looked like it did him some good. Because, he'd started to remember one small thing. He has seen a face of a yelling brown-eyed man. But he hadn't heard what the man yelled, yet.

Still, it wasn't enough to go on but… it was a start.

…

But all of that wasn't important right now.

Because there was something going on in the hallway, on the same floor were Neal was sleeping in his bed.

Mozzie and June saw the doctor walk out of the room. He walked right past them when they sneaked out of the elevator.

"From now on this elevator go's by the name Hanna. Because we became so close, today," Mozzie muttered. "Well, when you get tired of her, you always could've used the stairs," June shot back with her quiet voice. The door from Neal's room was open, and they could see a blond woman patching the man's face up with white bandages. The man himself was motionless at the moment.

If you only looked ones, you couldn't recognize Neal right away. He looked so small and even more slender as usual. He was nothing more than a white spot on a bed.

"Oh God, that's Neal?" June gasped. Mozzie didn't reply. He hadn't told her about Neal's disability, yet. He hoped someone else did.

June didn't wait any longer and stride into the room. Nurse Betty looked up from her patching work and blinked her eyes in surprise. "Oh. Hello? Can I help u?" she asked a little unsure of herself. Unconsciously, she wanted to protect her patient by standing a front of the bed. Her green eyes never left the brown ones from the lady.

"Maybe you can't exactly help me, but I think _I_ can help you with something." Betty frowned surprised. "Sorry?" the nurse asked, looking really confused, now.

"I think I can give you the name that goes with this poor young man." June pointed at the sleeping man snuggled up from under a blanked. The arm that was attached to the IV pole was folded on top of the blanked, showing them the skinniness of his stark white body. "Oh really?" Betty smirked, because she really didn't know how to react.

June nodded.

"This man's name is Neal Caffrey."

Nurse Betty blinked again, but then shuffled a little bit away from the hospital bed. Only once she flashed her eyes at the sleeping person, before she game a little closer at the older lady. "Oh? You too? How… I mean…" Then her eyes caught a glimpse the familiar bald guy, standing at the end of the hall, looking nervous. "Oh… now I see," she sighed.

_It had happened before. That someone came to her with a name or identification about a patient. But that only happened after going to the press with a good story, if the police haven't had a damn clue about the patient's whereabouts. This time it took only three days. And they never did anything special for it. Because. Well… First of all: this patient didn't have a recognizable face, yet, with all those swellings and injuries. Taking some pictures wouldn't help, much. And second of all: The patient was visibly traumatized. He was very scared about everything. They had been very careful, with him. _

So, this was actually some kind of a miracle. Neal must've had a hell of a guardian angel!

June wanted to go to the sleeping figure and give him a kiss or something. She didn't know exactly how she felt right now. But the only thing that mattered was that their Neal was still alive!

"Wow wow wow. Wait! Uh… Do you h-have a moment? I have to call someone first," Betty muttered as she gently pushed June away from the bed. Her eyes fluttered but her smile said it all.

She was so happy for this _Neal_.

June obeyed, of course. And that was the moment when Mozzie shyly popped his head in the doorframe. June beckoned him to come inside. She was so proud of the guy! It was all because of his paranoid mind that they'd found Neal back. He earned a huge hug for this!

And this time… Mozzie let her _do_ it. He even hugged back a little…

…

Of course there were some questions that needed to be answered, first. So they were taken to Dr. Walls office.

And of course Nurse Betty, June and Mozzie had to wait for the doctor until he had found the full medical report on Neal Caffrey. He had to call the Marshalls for an approval, which was kind of ridicules. He also had to confirm the authorities that Neal was found alive. And that news would leak into the FBI White Color division, eventually. They knew Jones, Diana or Reese will contact Elizabeth at some point. _And Mozzie knew that the Marshalls will be here soon to give Neal a new anklet. Despite all his injuries._

They waited a long time for the doctor to come back in his office…

In the meantime June was very cooperative and told Nurse Betty about the gas explosion. And that his handler Peter Burke was also recovering in this hospital from a coma, broken ribs and two broken legs. Mozzie kept himself quiet the whole time, assuming that they were being recorded, at some point.

All this information was a big shock for Betty. Of course they knew about that gas explosion. They had treated a few bystanders with minimum trauma. But she didn't know about the FBI agent, nor his missing or perished CI.

But it was good that everything finally fell into place.

An hour later Neal's doctor finally came back in to his office, with a big stack of printed pages stuck from under his armpit.

He looked pleased.

Everything seemed to be in order. And now that the patient's identity was finally confirmed, they filled June and Mozzie in about his current state and treatments they had done, so far. Dr. Walls also promised that if Neal was awake within the hour he would allow only one to come along with Nurse Betty for feeding Neal some dinner.

Of course this was all terrible news about the damaged eyes and current memory loss. But Mozzie was a little relieved about the eye surgery. It was still too early to tell, but Neal could be gaining some sight back, within time. So he wasn't completely lost anymore.

…

Peter's eyes shot open when he smelled something delicious and jet very familiar. He smiled happily at the plate what danced from under his nose.

"Deviled ham," he blurred out like a happy child that woke up with seeing his mom smiling down at him.

The electric bed went up a bit and Peter saw his wife holding up a plastic plate for him.

"I knew this would wake you up," a sweet voice said.

_It was his El!_

"Love dinnertime…" he said again. His voice was starting to sound better now he was pulled into a semi-sitting position. It was the first time, that the doctors had let her do it, though. It means the man was getting a tiny little bit stronger. She smiled too. But there was something going on from underneath her bright pale blue eyes.

"Hi Hon. I missed you. You slept a while. You missed June and Mozzie this afternoon," Elizabeth said. She hoped Peter wouldn't remember that moment when she turned her back to him while she was whipping her tears away. But Peter gave a loaded sigh.

"Only a little… W-was Mozzie there, too?" he asked a little astonished. "Didn't see him…" He gazed into his hospital room, apparently looking for something and Elizabeth frowned at that.

"He isn't here, anymore, hon. He and June already left a while, ago." Her hands were picking up a finely chopped piece of bread and hold it under his nose. "Eat. The nurses were a little pissed at you for not eating well all day. They asked me to help." Peter smiled again. But he didn't bite into his food. "I like it when you get all bossy." Elizabeth 's frown faded away and changed into a fond smile. "And I starting to like this loopy act, too. But, hon. Please eat now. My arm is getting tired." Peter blinked up at her but finally understood his task and started to eat a bit.

His medicine IV was almost empty and one little red light was starting to blink. It means that a nurse will come in soon, to replace it with another one. Besides that blinking sound and the beeping heart monitor, it was nicely quiet. El enjoyed feeding her loopy husband and Peter couldn't stop giggling while chewing with his mouth open, like an infant. But after his third bite, he was getting sad. His face was turning gray. "Hon?" El said scrupulously. Assuming that her husband needed to barf she pulled out a paper back for the bedside drawer. But Peter didn't need it. While his pupils were getting blacker and bigger, his heart rate fastened up a bit. "Neal…" he stammered. "Did I miss his funeral, yet? I-I mean… the ceremony?" he asked as he gulped once. El bit her lip as she shook her head. "Did they find h-his body yet?" Again El shook her head. It was getting hard to lie every time he asked about those things. There had been a ceremony, a week ago, when Peter was still in a coma.

Peter apparently knew by now, that she was lying to him. He wasn't his smartass-self yet. But he was still smarter than she thought he would be. Maybe it was because of the drugs were getting less affective, but Peter seemed to get a little bit more comprehend. They looked at each other. There were so many things Peter's eyes were telling her. And she could feel his unspoken sorrow. Peter grasped her hand. "Tell me… the truth, El…" he asked. His eyes were big but bright. Brighter that they were for a long time, now. She swallowed a big lump down her throat. The plate with Deviled ham sandwich fell down on the white blanket and no one cared.

El didn't know what to say.

And that was the moment when her phone rang…

* * *

**_AN: I had a bit of fun with this chapter. But still, there are so many other way's to reunite Neal with the others. It was hard to pick one! I hope you liked this version. But the real 'meeting' part is for the next chapter! I will give you a hind of what to expect next: You will read about Diana and Jones and a very light version of the stiff old Reese. In the mean time, wait a bit! There is so much work to do first!_**

**_Review me :3 And I will work faster!_**

**_X_**

**_Josie_**


	9. Chapter 9

**Ring…ring…**

For a moment Elizabeth just stared at her ringing pocket from her overcoat she hung on the chair. She really didn't want to answer that, because she didn't trust her voice. But after the fourth ring Peter got a little annoyed.

"El."

…**Ring…**

_It was the classic tune of an old telephone 'ring' Elizabeth chose for her cellphone a while ago. That was after she and Peter had a surprise visit from Neal. They had a small conversation about 'old black British desk phones with funky dial plates'. And she felt a little nostalgic. _

_It was a little odd that a small thing like this could weight so much in her head, now. _

"El, you should get that. Maybe it's an important client of yours." El looked at her husband as she finally grabbed her cellphone. His eyes were red-rimmed and his grayish color didn't go away. It was obvious Peter wasn't feeling well at the moment. And the pain he mostly felt couldn't just be eliminated with more medication or a loving kiss on his cheek from her. This psychological pain from losing his best friend, was to deep and to strong for that. This day El had seen her husband struggle with a horrific memory. About the explosion, and Neal. A memory about the last moments he had spend with Neal, before he died. When Peter was asleep he whispered something to her. A faint voice told her something very upsetting.

'He died to protect me, hon…'

Peter must've felt so overwhelmed by sadness right now. And God knows how guilty he felt for not saving him, instead. Even if he was stuck under a heavy pole, with broken legs. Poor Peter. He has been through a lot.

Then she realized she had to stay strong in order to make him feel a little better. So she gave a strong nod, pushed the button as she cleared her throat.

"Yeah," she said. Totally forgetting to say her name.

"_Mrs. Burke?"_ the familiar voice asked. Elizabeth's eyes perplexedly blinked up at her husband because the voice belonged to his boss.

"Hughes. Hi." As she called out that name Peter's eyes grew bigger.

"_Yes Elizabeth, it's me. Listen… um.. I just sent two agents on the way to the hospital. They… um… will come with some news… about Neal Caffrey…" _El suddenly felt numb. Some fumbling noises came from the other site of the phone.

"_They should be with you in a few more minutes. But I thought it was for the best if I called ahead to inform you about… something."_

Elizabeth swallowed hard as her color drained from her cheeks.

"Did they find his body?" she stumbled over the word _body_. Her eyes stared at her husband who looked at her eagerly. He was obviously trying to understand this, apparently, 'shocking' news.

"Reese? What's the news?" he suddenly cried out with a strong voice. He couldn't take the silence no more. He had to know! The heart monitor went wild as Peter started to groan and cough from this painful jolt in his chest. El shot her husband a nervous look but her hands held the cellphone to her ears, desperately wanting to hear what Reese had to say about Neal.

"_Was that Peter?"_ Reese asked a little too concerned for his normally stiff old self. Peter stopped coughing and let his head rest on his pillow trying to ease down some of the pain he'd cost. El's hand stroked one plastered leg as she said quietly: "Yes, he is here."

A pause…

"_Then you should be very careful around him about the things I am going to say to you right now."_ El nodded, not even realizing that Reese couldn't see her.

"Reese, just say it. We can handle it." Her eyes pulled away from Peter's strong gaze, just like her whole body, when she turned her back at him. Only to protect him from her white face.

A deep sigh came from the other site of the phone. Followed by another one. One that gathered some strength in order to say these, apparently, difficult words.

"_They found Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth. God knows how he survived, but… He is alive." _

"What?" El's eyes fluttered in shock. "A-alive?" Her hand stopped stroking as her legs gave out. "How i-is that…?" She couldn't breathe.

"El!" Peter cried.

And as she sunk to the ground Peter sat up to catch her in time but he couldn't reach her. He heard a soft thud as Elizabeth fell down. Although, she didn't faint completely. El just fell on her knees. But it scared the crap out of Peter and he didn't think twice before pushing on the nurse button.

Within seconds two nurses rushed in the room. The first one was all over Peter but when he pointed at his wife, despite is chest pain from sitting up so fast, both nurses kneeled down at Elizabeth.

"Mrs. Burke?"

"Yeah. I-it's fine. I'm okay. It's just that…" She was brought to her feet and helped down on her chair again. Everyone looked very worried at her. By accident she ended the call with Reese. But that was okay.

She had heard enough to feel very grateful and totally stunned at the same time. As soon as the nurses left she got up from her chair and walked over to the bed were Peter was staring at her, all drugged up again and very sleepy. That 'sitting up' part had done a number on him. But he still could manage to stay awake for the news what Reese told his wife that made her so upset.

_She smiled… why is she smiling? _

"Am I going to see hippo's again, soon?" he asked confused.

El gave a small chuckle and pressed her forehead gently to his.

"You okay?" he asked again. Elizabeth nodded. One hand stroked his messy hair.

"I am fine, now."

"Good…" Peter smiled and hung in to her sweet touch. But his fuzzy mind sobered up immediately when he saw El's phone in her free hand.

"Reese. He had some news about Neal, did he?"

That was when her eyes started to sparkle a bit. Her emotions were seeping through her protecting armor. She started to laugh but her mount pouted as the tears were welling up. The hand that stroked his hair grasped at his hospital gown. Seeking for comfort of some kind.

"El? What's wrong?" Elizabeth sniffled as she lay her head down on his shoulder.

"Hon… you are going to be very grateful about telling me to pick up that phone…" she said between sobs. Peter didn't get it right away. But he sure had the right to.

Because… this was the unthinkable.

So "I-I don't understand," he said. And El looked him in the eye.

"Neal," she said. "He is still alive. They found him!"

* * *

**AN: I know I know. This is a shorter translated chapter. But I had to give you guy's something, right? Reason? I have a bad case of the flu. A fancy one with fever and everything. Can't watch the white screen for a whole minute before I feel sick again:P I shall spare you the details. Anyway... ****You all are so supportive to me! It makes me warm and fuzzy inside. Also, many thanks to those who tells me I made a grammar mistake:) The next chapter will be much bigger and stronger for that matter!**

**x**

**josie^^**


	10. Chapter 10

A hospital was like a library. Each wing, floor and even every room had another kind of story. Most of these stories ended well. But a lot of stories didn't, however. Sometimes books just closed on their own. Stories can end abruptly. And they can leave you incomplete. Dissatisfied. They can make you feel angry and cold, inside. Lost. Abandoned by hope. Sometimes great tales stay unfinished. Because, a story can die.

Just like those unfortunate people here in the hospital. Besides, all the effort. All that work! All that praying… No one could understand those abrupt endings. Even when the all knew that person was going to die.

_Why he? Why she? Why them? They were good persons! _

No one could answer those questions, really. It was just that one thing we all had in comment. We came here on this world as a newborn child, and as we grow older we learn that we going to leave this place again, if the time comes. Everyone knows that. But when that time comes? No one knows…

Only God knows our _plot_ of the story.

…

And this little chapter in Peter's and Neal's life was a rough one. But it sure had some kind of happy ending after all.

…

Diana and Jones entered the second floor from the hospital. Both looked spooked and flushed from the adrenaline that rushed through their veins. After the accident those agents grew closer than ever. They had spent so much time together at work and at home because neither of them wanted to be alone after Neal's dead and Peter's bad shape.

And here they were.

On their way to meet up with Elizabeth, so they all could see Neal Caffrey again. Well. _Mostly _all.

Both Peter and Neal weren't able to see each other yet. But that will be a matter of time.

They had taken the stairs for a good reason. Some of that burning energy had to go. Although, four stairs weren't enough to feel more relieved. But it was nice to pant a little of that steam out of their tense longs.

"Here it is: room 246," Diana said as they walked by Peter's room. Jones gave a nod but hesitated to knock at the closed door. They heard Elizabeth talk on the other site of the door. Her voice was strained and high-pitched. So, she must be crying. That was why Diana knocked, instead of Jones and rolled her eyes at the agent.

"Yes, come in," Elizabeth replied fast, and opened the door herself.

And sure. This was an awkward moment for both agents. But El made all that float away when she spread her arms around those two and hugged them strongly.

"Oh my God. You two. I am glad you are here. Come inside. Peter is still awake. He insisted to stay awake until he was completely sure Neal is still alive." El smiled.

"Oh, did Hughes call ahead? Of course he did," Jones said confusingly and walked inside. Actually a little relieved. Diana was on his heels and as soon as they saw Peter blinking up at them, they grew quiet.

Despite all what was happening, they had forgotten about how bad Peter was looking. He still looked very weak and unstable. His heart rate was still jumping up and down and his legs were of course still very broken and dangling in a brace. But he was awake. And semi-sitting.

"Hello agents. Glad to see you! It's been too long," Peter said. Hi voice sounded a little off, but that was okay. He got a small hug from Diana and a manly pat on his shoulder from Jones. "Good to see you too, boss," Diana replied sweetly. "How are things at the bureau?"

Jones chuckled at that. "Too quiet." There was some laughter and chitchat but finally Elizabeth intervened.

"So, what's the news about Neal? How did they find him? Why has it taken so long? And where is he now?" Diana blinked up at Elizabeth and her smile faded.

"He wasn't _found _exactly. Neal was brought in by some homeless guy, a couple of days ago. Neal was unable to tell his name and his face was badly injured, so no one could identify who he was."

"Oh my God. How is he now?" El asked. Her eyes were big and glazed over by shock. Her hand covered her mouth. Peter swore softly as he closed his eyes. The back of his head dropped on his pillow. "H-he… smiled down at me… w-was the last thing I remember," he slurred weakly. "His hands were his eyes and I couldn't say where I was…" He opened his eyes and Jones was the one that bowed over him. "Peter?" he asked. El was standing at the other site of the bed telling the younger agent that her husband had a strong effect on the drugs they gave him.

"All that blood… He was so messed up… but he was blind and he managed to find me though the ruble," Peter raved on. He sounded drunk but his gaze was stern. Sad. Earnest. As he shook his head Jones gave him another pat on the shoulder and looked at his wife.

"He remembers?" Jones asked quietly.

El nodded. Diana gave a compassionate sigh and laid a hand on Peter's plastered ankle.

There was a long silence. Peter fell asleep after he rambled on about how bad he wanted to safe Neal, but couldn't.

And that was when Mozzie and June came in.

El, Jones and Diana looked surprised at them.

"Hi, everyone. I heard you were here already," June asked sweetly. Her voice was soft because she didn't want to wake Mr. Burke. Mozzie shuffled a little uneasy from seeing the room filled with feds. But he didn't want to back away from them, anymore. But looking in their eyes was still a big step.

"June? Mozzie? What are you doing here? Oh my Gosh, I should've called you two. But you two are here! Who called you about this? Reese did?" Elizabeth asked in total confusion. But June chuckled an pushed the bald guy in forward.

"No one called me. And the reason we found our young con is because of this brave man. He found him on his own."

"You found him?" Diana yelped in shock. Jones pulled his hands out of his pockets.

"Alright, buddy! Way to go, Mozz!" he laughed and gave him a strong but friendly slap on his shoulder. Mozzie blinked ones but finally managed a big smile. He earned it. All this warmth.

"So Neal is here in the hospital all along?"

"Only three days, but yeah. Room 304. But we weren't allowed to talk to him, yet. He doesn't know us. And his personal nurse said he doesn't handle strangers very well." Jones and Diana snorted at that.

"He has a personal nurse, kinda figures."

Mozzie was not amused.

"Well, he _IS_ blind, after all. Weren't you all informed on his full status? He isn't himself. He can't trust anyone. He can't see. So therefore he needs a personal nurse to keep him from panicking out."

June cleared her throat in order to ease up the atmosphere. Her hand fell on Mozzie's shoulder as she looked at everyone. I overheard the doctor. He would be here any second now. To talk about Neal's full status. They had promised that if Neal wakes up after his fever-induced nap, one person may go inside as the nurse helps him to eat his dinner."

So they waited.

In the meantime Peter woke up again, but wasn't able to talk straight, anymore. This had been a unnerving day, after all.

…

**AN: Here we are, again. Resurrected from the dead. LOL! This was the missing piece I couldn't translate when I was sick. I hope you like it! **

**I love writing for you guy's! So Stay tunned. There will be another chapter popping up, this weekend:)**

**X**

**Josie**


	11. Chapter 11

His mind may still be a little scrambled. And his eyes may still be swollen shut and damaged from the great blast. But Neal was still able to dream.

It was a great mystery how things like this worked from inside an amnesiac brain, but when he was asleep he remembered some things. _Saw things_. Did things.

Unfortunately, he always forgot that stuff after he woke up again. Leaving only a very confused mixture of weird flashbacks and strong uneasy feelings behind.

Sometimes there were some faces stuck in his scrambled brain or a weird sounding name, like Mozz, he couldn't recognize. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.

And maybe he was still very ill and affected by the fever. But he also had the feeling he was some kind of a criminal. A bad person. Because of all that violence he saw in those strange flashbacks.

_People yelling at him. _

_Guns. _

_Fire… _

_A lot of fire, actually. _

But his dreams weren't all bad. And all forgotten. He remembered one from last night.

* * *

Last night he dreamt of that nice homeless stranger named Peter… or Paul… or whatever. Well… he didn't dream. It was more like a walkthrough from that day.

Neal owed the man. He saved his life. He was so helpful. He helped him stand up. He helped him walk. He helped him sit when he needed a break. He even talked to him as a friend. Like if he knew how he felt back then. It gave him so much strength.

He had to admit… he wasn't all there, back then. But he still could remember small parts. If he was able to leave this hospital, he would go and look for him. Thank him. Do something for him in return. He was homeless after all. He needed as much of help _he_ did that day. Or days…

He didn't remember much from further back. Only that he had found himself in a dark place with a hell of a headache. He started walking and got lost. He must have wandered on the streets for days because Nurse Betty said he was in pretty bad shape.

The doctor had told him that if that homeless man wasn't so determined, about getting him into the hospital safely, he might have died on the streets from the blood poisoning-infections and dehydration.

* * *

But that was last night. Now our Neal had a dream too.

Well… it was more like a nightmare slash bad memory.

"_You were as close to a son, I never had." _A man said to him. His voice was warm, smooth but friendly. The man meant what he said, in his dream. But he also looked very dangerous.

"…N-no….I am nothing like you!" Neal cried in his sleep.

"_There is nothing sadder than a conman conning himself," _that man replied.

There were some more images floating through his subconscious. He saw fire again. And a beautiful girl with stunning blue eyes, looking straight at him. Her eyes were sad. He felt so bad for her. She was dead because of him! He did something bad. That man, standing a front of him, had something to do with it. If only he could know why he was dreaming about this, now.

He still saw the man standing a front of him. His eyes were calm.

"_Come on, Neal. Let's stop hurting the people we love. Let's bring this thing full circle, you and me."_

Everything got blurry in his mind. Everything changed around him. A flash of an old building blowing up made him yelp in his sleep.

A very strong smell penetrated his nose, now. He smelled hot air. No… Gas! It mixed up all together in his dream.

"T-tell me you got the TNT out…" he raved again. His head was twisting on to his pillow.

"_Come on! The art is gonna burn." _

"_You did this!" _the man cried. A gun was pointing at his head.

"N-no!"

His hands were brought up to protect his face from the gun but something was very off about the gravity of his arms. He wasn't standing on the pavement anymore. He wasn't surrounded by three men anymore. In fact, he lay flat on his back, again. Just like every time he woke up in this strange dark place.

The world went quiet… It was a dream… Just a bad dream… nothing else…

To wake up from a scary dream in a place that's still too unfamiliar for you, is no fun. Neither does the part that you aren't able to see what's going on around you. _Was he even awake? Or was this reality just another twist in his terrifying nightmares? _Besides the slightly recognizable hospital noises and the sound of your own muffled breathe from under the layers of bandages, everything wasn't much different that his dreams. He still felt unsure of anything.

But he was sure about one thing now. At this point… he realized that this dreams weren't exactly dreams. Because the fear and pain he felt, when he saw that man's face, were all too real.

That man… he had a name. He knew it. Adler… his name was Vincent Adler. So he knew one name now.

"Adler…" he said out loud. Wanting to hear it roll out of his sore throat.

Immediately, he regretted this action and started to feel sick from all that fear. His stomach started to roll badly. He was so confused right now.

He sat up in a jolt and find out that his back was soaking wet. Besides that, he was trembling like crazy.

Of course, he had seen some things like the end of a gun pointing at him. He had the right to feel sick. He remembered someone's name now. A name with a face. An older man that called him 'the closest thing to a son'. Neal started to pull at his bandages. He needed to barf.

Vincent Adler had a pointed face, brown hair, deep sadly looking blue eyes and a strange British-accent.

Some unplaced feelings were roaming though his head and stomach. He felt guilt, fear, great loss. He had done something to this man. Therefore this man wanted him dead instead.

Neal had to swallow hard when a sour taste was rising up from his throat. He finally had managed to pull the bandages away and he started heaving as he bowed forward to the edge of the bed, on his right.

After his stomach spasms subsided a sigh of relieve washed over him. Until his nose cached the penetrating aroma. He didn't think twice to push in the nurse button.

As soon as he heard female heels clacking from the hallway he gave a deep sigh and he fell back down onto the matrass, again. For a moment Neal just lay there. Catching his breath. Recovering from his nausea attack. Waiting for his heart to slow down a bit. More sweat was forming on his shivering body. And he started to feel even colder that he already did.

Waking up after an unanticipated nap was the worst part of the day. It confused him every time.

Luckily, he never was alone when that happened.

Nurse Betty was always there with him. _Telling him that he looked a lot better now. That everything is going to be okay. _And if she wasn't there, he could just use the button, and she will come. No matter what. She promised.

And she will say the same things as always. _That he has nice hands. A great voice. And a lovely smile._ These small chitchats always made him feel so much better. It was just what he needed. She made him feel normal and special at the same time. He always had the feeling he was safe with her.

And right now, he almost felt sorry to ask her once again to clean up his puke before he got sick again.

One hand got up to his face and carefully touched his bandaged forehead. His head itched. Right on that place a big wound was stitched up a few days ago. No one let him touch his own face. He wasn't allowed. But he wanted to. His fingers stroked his forehead and went down to his nose. The doctor said he looked very bad, but he also promised that everything would heal up just fine. Except for his eyes, maybe.

He sure felt ugly. But Nurse Betty said he was looking better every day. The wounds were starting to heal. So that must be a good thing, right?

"Mr. Sinatra? Did you beep me?" a familiar voice spread though the room. He smiled relieved. He wanted to tell her about his little puking accident but then he realized Nurse Betty wasn't alone.

He knew right away that something was wrong.

He heard her whispering something. But it was to quiet and soft for him to hear.

"_W-what did you say, Betty?"_

"Oh my, what did you do with the dressings? I told you _not_ to mess with those bandages."

"-Oh Neal…" another soft voice came in.

She was definitely not alone! How did he miss the other footsteps?

"…_Uhg… Betty… Who's there with you?"_

He felt uneasy again. His stomach started to roll as his heart pounded in his head.

"Ow, now I understand, poor thing. Did you have another nightmare, honny?" Betty said sweetly. "You felt sick, again? That's a new record. It's your lucky seven."

He was afraid. And then, without no warning that face from Adler flashed into his hazy mind! He smiled at him, from his place at the front seat.

He was suddenly in the back of a big black car, Adler's muscle was sitting a front of him, pointing a gun to his face. Next to him was someone else. He didn't saw his face very well. But he was pretty sure that man next to him was the same person he saw at first, when he started to have those scary flashbacks. This time everything felt so real. As if he was there. He gulped. His eyes grew big.

Then the scary man started to talk.

'_No, Neal. You did. You changed her. The Kate I knew would still be alive.'_

"…N-no.. I don't want to see him…" he stammered out loud. With a gasp of air he forced that face out of his head by shaking it. It only made him more sick, so he stopped moving.

Cold… He shivered as if he was freezing but he knew it had to be the fever. Or something else.

"He isn't like this very often. It's okay, sweety. I am right here," he heard.

That other voice came in. "He looks even worse than a couple of ours ago."

Neal was starting to pant.

His hand grasped at his blanket and he pulled it closer as if he wanted to feel protected by the warmth. He mumbled something else, but he didn't know what he was saying, anymore.

"I-I don't feel like talking to strangers right now, Nurse Betty."

He was losing control of his motor skills.

"Neal? Mr. Sinatra? I am right here, sweety. You might experience some sort of anxiety attack. That's quite comment. Just take a deep breathe. And think of something nice."

"You call this quite comment? Is he having some kind of a stroke, right now?"

That strange high pinched voice, again. That stranger was so close to him!

Neal shot his head up to look at the doorframe. He felt his painful eyes move from under his slightly swollen eyelids. But of course he didn't see.

"Who is there with you, Betty? Tell me! I don't wanna die. Please!"

And then an unexpected hand fell on his chest.

"Ssssshhhhh. Calm down, now. You are making a fool out of yourself a front of your best friend." Neal had made himself as stiff as possible. Almost trying to sink himself through the matrass to disappear from everyone. He had the feeling he had to run away. But he couldn't.

Then that other voice whispered something.

"Maybe this was a bad idea, after all. I really wanted to see him, but this is bad. He looks so scared."

"Shhh Mozzie, if that's your real name. Neal has posttraumatic stress, caused by a terrifying accident. He just needs to calm down. Don't you back down from this. The poor Neal needs you. He has been lonely for too long."

Neal only grasped harder into the blanket and shook his head in total fear. So much was happening right now! The hand on his chest began to stroke and pat in order to calm him down a little.

"Hey… Shhhh… It's okay, sweety. It's me. Betty. I was just talking to a friend of yours. You can let go the blanket now."

Her voice was so soothing.

And finally Neal eased down. Leaving him very shaky and tired from all that anxiety. He draw a deep sigh. His breath was still shaky but he let go of the blanket. His white knuckles starting to turn pink again.

He was quiet for a little while. Nurse Betty chuckled softly as she continued stroking his shivery and soaking chest. The stranger's footsteps shuffled a bit. Trying to get away from him and Betty.

"Oh no you don't. Stay," Neal heard. "You left us all confused up once. Now it is time for Neal to get to some answers. He was asking about you earlier. You remember, sweety?" That last sentence was addressed to him so Neal gave a slow nod.

"Y-you are bald, right?" he asked. His voice sounded weak and shaky. So innocent and unlike-Neal.

And that eased up the heavy atmosphere.

"If I say, no. Would you believe her instead of your best friend?" Mozzie said. He was smiling. Neal heard that, somehow. So he smiled back. Still a little unsure. "We are best friends? For how long?" Neal tried to sit up but he wasn't able anymore. He was so tired. Betty finally felt that she could let him go and started to clean up the smelly sickness.

"You already know your name? Did Betty tell you, yet?" Neal bit his lip.

"It was Neal, right?"

"Yes it is. Neal Caffrey." Neal gave a nod. He was starting to feel weak and he lay his head further down on his pillow. He was still shivering. So he pulled up his blanket again. This time he did that a little less anxious.

Mozzie stared for a long time at his skinny looking friend. There were a lot of things he could say this moment. Neal must've had a lot of questions about his life, too. But he didn't ask one thing, either. Only one thing he said after he managed to stiff a yawn.

"So… Your name is Mozzie, right?" he whispered softly. Causing Mozzie to affright.

"You do remember me?" he asked in aw.

Neal shook his head and pulled up one shoulder, like the old Neal would've done. "Betty just said your name twice. And besides that, you had told me this afternoon. I might have amnesia, but I am not that forgetful." Mozzie snorted.

"Well. Not that bald either."

A plumping sound of a mob splashing in a bucket after the puke was wiped away, was sounding through the room. Neal was dozing at some point but startled fully awake, again.

"Neal, you need something to eat, sweety. So, if you're not too tired or queasy, I would like to feed you some chickensoup. How is that sounding to you?"

Neal started to think hard. And he almost missed the elevator ping from the hall way. More voices sounded down the hall. Neal popped his head up again. Because he heard someone else saying his new given name.

"Betty?" Neal asked unsure. He was getting scared again. "Ow yeah. There were some more friends, begging to come and talk to you. But don't be afraid, sweety. I will be there, alright. You think you can handle your first visiting hour?"

Neal didn't have a choice. Because all of the sudden his room was filled with other strangers. Doctor Walls was there too. "Hello, Mr. Sinatra. Or should I say, Neal?" Kevin said, sounding very happy about this. Everyone was so happy. So it was okay than. Neal nodded his head but obviously didn't feel very comfortable.

Luckily Betty was there and touched his shoulder. Mozzie was still there, Neal could hear him shuffle, almost sounding as uncomfortable like he felt.

"Oh good heavens, Neal? You are really here. You are alive. Oh poor thing." Elizabeth wanted to push the doctor away and hug that weak looking younger man. But she didn't. Diana an jones went a little quiet. They just stared at the bandages on the man's head. And those skinny arms. He was barely recognizable. There was basically nothing left of the old Neal right now. His eyes were everything. And his face. His smile. No one could see those things. But his face was still there.

It was just hidden from under the bandages. He would recover someday. And if he was lucky, he would see again soon. Tomorrow was a big day for Neal. He would undergo surgery. If he was fever free.

Neal didn't ever realize he was falling asleep when he heard Betty talk about his first day in the hospital. Neal heard some names. June, El, Diana, Jones. The doctor had let them introducing their selves to him. Neal shook some hands. But he was so tired he didn't have the strength to be scared anymore. He nodded a bit he smiled when Betty told them Neal was acting a lot more mature than the last two or three days.

He didn't hear them leaving, anymore. He was done for this evening. The chickensoup had to wait. Just like this little reunion. Neal was still injured and weak after all. He needed rest. Besides that. He had a fever that had to go. Otherwise he had to wait longer for this surgery.

Hopefully his subconscious didn't show him more scary thing's like he had seen a moment ago.

* * *

_**AN: A little later but as promised: a big chapter with some kind of reunion. I worked my ass off and I am still not sadisfied. Let me know what you think. **_

_**X**_

_**Josie **_


	12. Chapter 12

Seeing Neal for the first time since his disappearing was a little harder then everyone expected. Of course they all knew about Neal's state by now. But it was still a shock for all of them to see him starved out and his face bandaged up like some kind of ancient mummy.

The doctor had informed them about his physical and mental state before he let them into his bed. They were instructed to be quiet, calm and gentle with him. Because mister Caffrey could be very agitated and he might hurt himself. Restraining him wasn't an option, either. He needed his hands in order to feel what was going on around him. It was harsh to take that away from him.

If Nurse Betty wasn't so helpful and all, Kevin had considered admitting him in to the psych ward. This patient didn't act like a normal patient who's diagnosed with the posttraumatic stress syndrome, and if he wasn't so weak and defenseless he would've considered an appointment with a well-trained psychologist, too.

It was good to know that he was wrong about the fact that this young man was _crazy _or something (harsh way to put it). His finally found friends assured him that Neal Caffrey was in fact a very talented and smart _sane_ CI working with the bureau. Although, that female cop told him that Caffrey was able to make crazy decisions sometimes, in order to get what he wanted it. But that was it.

Kevin stayed as long as the rest until Neal didn't respond to them anymore, assuming the patient passed out. He talked to Elizabeth Burke for a while since she was the wife of Peter, the other unfortunate man that got injured from the same explosion. They talked about some kind of a plan to reunite them together anytime soon. But Elizabeth Burke was so overwhelmed about everything that he advised her to go back home, take some time and come back later so they could talk about it.

Both agents went back to the office after checking up on Peter again. But the man was fast asleep and he even looked worse than a few minutes ago. June suggested Mozzie to come back home with her but Mozzie had other plans. Despite his uneasy feelings for being at the hospital he asked Nurse Betty to stay for the night. It was even a little weird for himself. Sure. But he had the feeling he had to stay with his friend. In case he needed him. He didn't want to lose him again. Didn't want to leave him alone, again. Like he and the others did.

Assuming that Neal Caffrey was dead, was a big mistake everyone had made.

Neal was like a cat, after all. He had cheat death before. But he still had some lives left from the nine lives he had. Mozz should've known.

…

At night Betty always made sure her favorite patient stayed asleep when she left the hospital. She injected his IV with some light sedative. Because of Neal's concussion and amnesia he didn't get a lot of those. Only at night or when he was in great pain. Fortunately, Neal didn't complain about pain or headaches, anymore. He just was a little dizzy or nauseous sometimes. Besides those dizzy-spells, Neal was getting better.

When Betty left for the night, Mozzie was still planted in the chair at the left side of the bed.

"Good night, Mozzie. Take good care of him until the morning. And don't stay up all night. There is a bed waiting for you next door." Mozzie shot her an all knowing, yet suspicions, look and snorted back.

"Thanks nurse. But I don't trust sleeping in a hospital I am staying right here with him." Betty was slightly amused about the bald man's paranoid attitude and leaned into the doorframe as she cocked her head at him.

"Why so jumpy? You don't trust the nurses around here?"

"I do. But I don't trust the system." Now it was Betty's time to snort.

"Meaning?" she asked in a sarcastic tone while she crossed her arms. But her face was smooth. She was starting to like this geeky friend of Neal. That made Mozzie a little uncomfortable but eventually he stood up and pulled up one trouser leg. He gave a sigh as Betty's eyes grew big with surprise.

On his leg was written: _Not this leg!_ with a black marker. "You are kidding right?" nurse Betty asked a little amazed. It was actually the funniest thing that had happened for a long time at work. So she began to chuckle as Mozzie showed her his other leg. It was the same text.

"My arms have the same marks but you'll get the point, right?" Mozzie mumbled. He heard her laugh. And he didn't mind. He knew he was crazy. But you will never know.

"Oh Mozzie. Thank you for this. I needed it. Have a great night. I will be back about 7 o'clock."

Mozzie nodded and waved her goodbye. He was staring to like this nurse also.

Then… the world went silence.

One hour past already.

For a while Mozzie was staring hypnotized at Neal's chest. He watched it rise and fall in slow and calm movements. Although, his friend didn't seem to sleep very peaceful. Every now and then his fingers twitched. Or his head jerked from site to site. He heard him ramble some words Mozzie didn't quite understand. Neal was out of it, for sure. But he didn't miss the part about the horse drawings that hang on his prison walls. Mozzie perked up like a dog who heard the magic word like: _treats_.

So he dreamt about his past? Good to know all those things were still intact somewhere. Like a computer. The hard drive worked but the wires were a little crossed. Not fried, thank god.

"Take it easy, my friend. You are no longer in prison," he said to him in order to sooth him. One awkward pat on the young man's arm came with it. And as weird as it was, Neal eased down a bit. Not completely, but enough to sleep less restless.

…

In the early morning Mozzie jumped up from his chair when he realized he had fallen asleep at some point. His first thoughts were about his arms and legs. And when he found out they were still attached to his body his eyes went to the bed. And to his surprise, he found out that it was, in fact, _very_ empty.

Where did he go? And why didn't he wake up when he left?

He looked at the clock. It wasn't even past 6.

"Neal?" he asked, forgetting that his voice might make this situation scarier than it already was. As Mozzie looked around, he saw that the black vest that was hanging on the peg, earlier, was gone too. As well as his portable IV pole.

"Neal, where the hell are you, man? Aren't you supposed to be sedated?" Panic was welling up inside his mind and he started to feel a little worried. What should he do now?

And just as he thought about calling a nurse, a big flush was sounding from the bathroom, from the other side of the room. Relieve washed over him when he saw Neal in the doorstep with his IV pole rolling next to him like nothing happened. He was sleepy and he swayed a little on his bare feet. Mozzie had the strong urge to help him back to his bed. But he wasn't sure he would freak out about his appearance. So he just watched the young man blindly find his way back to his bed. And it went surprisingly well. Neal just crawled back into his bed without one word or anything. And pulled up the covers as he shivered a little at the coldness from the tiles. Mozzie was starting to think he even didn't noticed his company. Maybe Neal was sleepwalking. Because he went right back to sleep after his visit to the bathroom. So Mozzie relaxed and pulled his pinkish shirt straight, thinking about getting himself a big cup of coffee down the hall.

When he walked down this quiet hallway he came across a doctor he didn't recognize. It must have been one working a night shift. Because he looked like hell. He gave the doctor a nod and went on.

…

Then the elevator doors opened. Betty was preparing herself for her day at work and had some files stuck under her arms. Some other patients needed extra care because of the flu that was running around. But the first thing she always did, was checking up on Neal Caffrey. Assuming he would be singing another great old song, like he always did when he was feeling alone. But that wasn't the case. It was still quiet inside of that room.

Frowning a little she peaked inside. Neal was sound asleep, but something was very off. That bald man was gone. And Neal was wearing that old vest again. _Where did he get that ugly and bad smelling thing, anyway?_

"You are early. Are you this early every time? Do you even have a life out there?" Mozzie asked coming from across the hall. He was holding a cup of coffee and looked a little relieved to see a familiar face in this place. Betty gave him a big smile.

"Yeah, I know. But at least I had a good couple of hours. And you? Did you even follow my advice?" Her eyes pointed at the cup of black substance and Mozzie gave her a shrug.

"Not much. But Neal did." For a long moment all eyes were on that skinny looking man who had fallen asleep with his vest on. One foot was still dangling out of the bed.

"Alright. Well. I have to start my shift now. Feel free to leave. Your friend is getting a sponge bath and a look-over from his doctor, about 30 minutes. So… but you can wait in the public livingroom too, if you like." Mozzie thought about it. And he chose to come back later this day, instead.

Neal had a big day ahead. And he didn't want to be that person to ruined it all.

…

_**AN: I like that part about Mozzie showing his legs to nurse Betty. Maybe I am a little crazy too. But I would do the same if I was him xD. I know this was a shorty. But I thought it was a right chapter-end. The next one would be very intense. Neal is going to meet Peter. I already wrote this story in my own language but I caught myself rewriting things every time I work on the translating's. It only makes this story much better! See you soon and review like you always do! I looovvvveee yyyooouuuu aaaalll!**_

_**X**_

_**Josie**_


	13. Chapter 13

Neal woke up in a jolt when Betty touched his cold foot, and immediately regretted this movement.

"Wow wow wow, Easy mister Caffrey. It's me, Betty. Your foot was dangling out of your bed. Must've been quite a dream, then." Neal let his head rest on his pillow again as he gave a sigh. He needed a moment to ease the nausea that he was experiencing.

"Yeah. It kinda was." Some flashes came to his mind about his last dream. He saw that brown-eyed man again. His face was fading away behind a gray curtain. Just like every time he tried to recognize it, somehow. This time he heard him speak. _'Neal! Stay low!' _And then the awful strong smell of gas and dust. This man must've meant a lot to him. Because every time he saw those big brown eyes it felt like a knife piercing through his heart.

Meanwhile Neal was getting himself into a semi-sitting position.

"Sweety… What's wrong? You look troubled."

"Oh… it's nothing," he mumbled. "Same old same old."

And Neal shook his head to clear his mind again. _Wait… Look troubled? How does she know?_

His fingers were going up to his face, and this time Nurse Betty didn't stop him. When his fingers touched his nose he gave a big smile. He felt the pleasant feeling of fresh air on his cheeks immediately.

"Wow."

Betty gave a small chuckle.

"Feels good, ha. I took the liberty of freeing you from those bandages. And guess what. Your face is healing up nicely. Most of the swellings are gone. Most importantly, it seems that your infections are gone, too." Neal gave a nod. "Good to hear." Neal needed another minute to get up completely and swung his thin legs over the edge of the bed. A strong hand on his shoulder was helping him to find his balance.

"Does that mean that I don't have to wear the bandages anymore?"

He was so glad when Betty took his hand and placed in on her cheeks.

"Do you feel that? That's a smile. It means _Yes_, sweety. At least until the surgery. The wounds are looking good. But you're not out of the woods yet. You will probably need another surgery to restore your vision completely. But that depends on how damaged they are. After that, your eyes have to be bandages up for another couple of weeks. So…"

"I am not going home any time soon, aren't I?" Neal asked in a low voice. Betty gave a deep sigh and patted his hand.

"I am afraid not, sweety. You will be stuck with me for a little longer. And in case you didn't notice: you're still looking like a starving little street kitty. The nutritionist wants to talk to you after the surgery. She is a little mad at you for not eating." Neal shook his head.

"Don't trust the food," he mumbled softly. Almost like he was embarrassed of himself.

"Yeah, I noticed. But sweety, please. You need to get back to your strength in order to heal. And IV of vitamins is not enough, you know."

Neal nodded again. "A-alright. I will try…" he mumbled again. He looked like a small child, trying to obey his mother despite his own little feelings. Face hiding under his mob of brouwn curly hair.

His hand was still attached to her face. She already had let him go but he was very curious how Betty looked like. So he gently explored her surprisingly soft skin. His index finger moved up to her cheekbones. A weird kind of flashback came to his mind. He had done this before. To someone who was lying on the ground. A friend he didn't _see_, but _felt_ smiling up at him.

Now this face was smiling too.

"What are you doing, Neal?" Betty asked softly. It brought him back to reality.

"Oh. Um… Nothing… Just that… D-did you know y-your face feels like how I pictured it would be?" Neal said with a soft voice. Betty frowned at that, feeling slightly amused and curious what this young man meant by that.

Betty felt soft, warm and smooth.

"How's that?"

"Soft. Friendly. Warm. Just like your voice." Betty laughed at that and put his hand back on his lap again.

"Well well, mister Caffrey. That's a nice compliment. Aren't you a charmer."

Neal smiled shyly. He felt his own cheeks burn red. And this time it wasn't the fever. He heard Betty rumble to some things on some kind of a tray. Then a hand fell on his chest.

"Are you ready for the wash up before we start the day?" Nurse Betty asked. Neal gave a nod.

…

It turned out that Neal's fever finally broke down. So the operation was going to happen this afternoon. In the meantime Neal was occupied with the anesthetist, his doctor Kevin and another surgeon he didn't know. First they took his pulse. Then he had to stand on a scale so they could see how much he weighed now. So far, he didn't gain any but his responsiveness has improved so the anesthetist could use the normal dose of narcosis, like a man of his size.

He had to do some other tests, too. He had to stretch one arm from his body as far as he could, and when the doctor said 'go' he had to touch the point of his nose in one try. It was only to look if his motor functions where intact. He didn't pass that one on the first try but managed it in three on both sides. Surprisingly to all of them, Neal didn't like to give up that easily. Despite his effort, he didn't pass the next test either. He had to stand on both legs, pull one leg up to his chest, keep the balance until he finished counting to ten, and then change as quickly as he could on the other leg.

Those tests were quite difficult for him. He wobbled and swayed, during that last one. He even threatened to fall at the fifth time when Kevin had to end this pitiful sight.

If Neal wasn't so tired, he would've begged the doctors to do it all over again, until he passed the tests without second try's. He was screwed. His diagnose was already made.

'Mister Caffrey is suffering from a severe concussion. Head trauma is centered on the front site. Causing some pressure in his frontal lobe. Therefore the patient has trouble standing straight and slightly lost his coordination skills. Caffrey is experiencing nausea, headaches and dizziness. And seems a little disoriented. The interim memory loss indicates that the subconscious mind is blocking the horrifying memories from the accident. A very common and natural defense mechanism of the human body.'

Cases like this needed time, patience and a lot of luck. Luckily, Neal was very determined to do his best in recovering.

He showed some healthy effort understanding what was going on and that was new. He wasn't acting all worked up and scared like the first few days. He even made a joke to the unknown doctor. That was progress!

Neal wanted this eye surgery to happen. He wanted to see again. Wanted to get his old live back. To know who he was. But one thing was for sure.

He certainly didn't like to fail on a test.

…

After breakfast, he didn't quite finish, Neal was starting to feel nervous for today.

Betty was very busy helping some other patients on this floor, right now. She promised to come back in one hour or so while he took his nap.

But he couldn't. _They are going to poke my eyes out, this day, _he thought. "All for a good cause, you idiot. Don't panic," he mumbled out loud.

He impatiently started tapping his fingers against the food tray on his lap. And just like always. A song popped in his head. He sang two lines but stopped when he heard a voice down the hall. It was a slightly familiar female voice, saying his name to another person. The person she was with, gave Neal some small hind of relieve. He knew that man from earlier. It was that weird guy who had claimed to be his best friend. _What was his name again? _

"Mozzie."

Neal perked up from his pillow and tried to overhear the soft whispering conversation.

'_Misses Suit. Are you sure this is a good idea? The doctor was very clear about no visitors without supervision.' _The man sounded very unsure.

'_Yeah, I know, Mozz. But… It's Neal. I am sure he will understand.'_

'_But he is getting surgery. Are you sure he is up to it?'_

The footsteps stopped. Not because the woman had sudden doubts. But because that weird friend of him probably needed a stern glare or something.

'_Alright. Fine. But I am going to look for his nurse. I am not okay with this,'_ his nervous friend said.

'_Don't forget to bring a wheelchair, would you?'_

_Wheelchair? What were they planning to do? Steal him back into their lives? _

Now Neal was getting really curious. It all seemed so funny and weird at the same time. He didn't have a clue who he was or where he came from, but apparently, his friends won't let him alone. Sure, they seemed nice but… He _was_ getting a surgery. And he _did_ need some rest…

Although… the more and more he spent his time alone, thinking about the whole eye-thing, the less confident he got. He needed some distraction. _Must be his lucky day afterall,_ he guessed.

So he gave a deep sigh and made a decision. He pushed the tray aside with a little too much force and got to a sitting position. Sure he was a little scared of those funny strangers. But the nervous fellow surly knew him.

He let them come. But just to make sure he really wasn't _'about going to get kidnapped out of his bed'_, his thump unconsciously sought the way to the nurse button, hanging beside his bed rack.

Just in case.

There wasn't enough time for anything else, anyway. Because… they're already standing in the doorway.

"Uhm. Hi…" Neal stuttered suddenly very nervous. He didn't recognize his own voice. His hands started to tremble slightly. "Mozz, right?" he asked. A small gasp came out of the strange named man. At the same time the woman shifted on her heels.

"Oh my," the female whispering voice gasped out is shock. "His face."

"W-who is with you?" But his friend didn't answer.

They were quiet for a long time. _'His face.'_ The bandages. He didn't even realize. He must've looked really bad. One hand got up to his face and touched his itchy and sore forehead. He kinda knew he looked bad. He simply just forgot for a moment.

But then, finally the man, named Mozzie, scraped his throat.

"Yeah, buddy. It's me. So you are remembering me from my latest visit?" Neal nodded. He tried to smile but his facial skin was feeling oddly tight. Like if it had shrunken a couple of inches. Maybe he had. After all, he looked like a starved little street kitty, like Betty said.

"Hey, your bandages are gone… Nice… Good. You look uh-…"

"-Like crap? So I have been told." His voice was starting to come back. Not out of his trust for _them._ He just gave up.

_Hell with it. Do whatever you want with me._ _What else can happen to me, anyway._

Neal smirked a little at that and finally let go of his nurse button.

A sigh of relieve came out of the woman and started to move closer.

"Oh, Neal. I am sorry. It's not that bad. Sure it looks a little… eerie, now. To me at least. But… yesterday your doctor explained to us that the cuts and bruises didn't leave any scars. Your face will be as good as new in a week… or so."

"You are going to be fine, buddy. Listen to what Elizabeth sais. In the mean time I am going to find Betty, okay?"

Neal nodded to the friendly tone of his _buddy's_, but he didn't miss the seriousness, no… _abhorrence_, in their voices. Maybe he was fortuned for unable to see himself in the mirror, then. His shoulders slumped in dreariness.

"That bad, ha? And I was just thinking this day couldn't be any worse than failing the tests this morning."

That woman walked over to him and shoved a chair next to him. Then a sudden hand fell on his shaky shoulder.

"Neal? Is it okay for me to sit here? I uhm… wanted to talk to you about something."

And just like that, a beautiful face of a blue eyed brunet popped in to his head. She was a sweet person. Older as he. Very smart. And he remembered his friend calling her misses Suit. Was she a cop or something?

Neal head jerked up at her.

"Are you a cop or something?" he asked shallow-brained. Surprisingly it caused the women burst out in laugh.

"No, why do you ask that? Do you remember something about me?" Neal shook his head.

"Why did Mozzie call you misses Suit?"

"Well… My husband is a Suit. For some reason that counts me inn as well." Neal nodded but his head was falling down to his chest again.

"Are you shipping me back to prison then? Or, you know… your husband?"

"Not exactly." Neal was starting to get nervous again. He gave a deep sigh and straightened his back at her.

"Then, what the hell are you doing here? Am I some kind of a allurement to you? If that's the case, will you take a good look and leave me the hell alone? I don't feel like talking." That was harsh. He knew he was being harsh. He almost regretted it immediately. Yelling at her and all.

She was quiet now. Her hand was away from his shoulder and it left a cold spot on his skin. He almost missed the touch.

"Sorry," he whispered quickly. His head was all over the place, like if he was avoiding her eyes. Totally forgotten the fact he didn't have to do that anymore. Luckily that woman was as nice as he thought she was. She lay a hand on his arm. Stroked his skin softly. And told him that it was okay. It was okay.

It was all okay.

"Neal? Is everything okay? You never told me you were expecting some company?" Nurse Betty's voice came down the hall. Her heels were clicking on the floor. That weird nervous friend was next to her, Neal could tell from his squeaky sneakers.

"Yeah. Probably forgot about it myself," he joked. Something always seemed to change when Betty was around him. He was feeling a lot better now. A little more secure.

"Your friend Mozzie was just telling me that they wanted you to meet someone important." A front of Neal the woman tensed up a little. "Yeah, actually, it was my idea. My husband isn't doing so well. He never stops thinking about him. I thought it would be good for the both of them to meet up. Uh, with your supervision of course." Neal's head made another swirl from all the excitation.

"What? You want me to go away from this room? Now?" There was a short silence.

"Only if you want it, Neal. It's your call. Are you up to meet another friend of yours?" Betty asked quietly. "It's almost an hour until your surgery. Maybe you even like the distraction."

Neal gave it a thought. "How is his name? And how do I know him?" he quietly asked back. Another silence filled up the room. Then the woman started to talk.

"My husband. His name is Peter Burke. He... I am not sure I can tell all of this right now." Betty must have given the woman a look because the women scraped her throat.

"He is sick? Here in the same hospital?" Neal asked, desperately trying to place this name. His head hurt!

"Is he homeless as well? Like me, I mean?" Then his head jerked up to the woman sitting close to him. "I didn't know that homeless man had a wife. How is he? I need to thank him." He was starting to tremble from all that excitement. And he knew he was looking pathetic when to more hands where holding him up before he keeled over.

"What are you talking about? Peter is your boss at the bureau, remember? They just told you that yesterday. Silly," Betty chuckled and sweetly patted him on his back. "So, what shall it be? Wanna go for a ride?" Neal bit his lip. Hell with it. At least Betty was here now.

"Okay... But I will need my slippers."

And so they went.

…

_AN: sorry for the biggest delay of all times! My sweet laptop collapsed! All of my story's, photo's, everything is gone. I had to write this next chapters all over again__ I felt soooooo bad for abandoning you all. It isn't my style at all! I hope you love this chapter. I promise that I will make another chapter this weekend. Feel free to punish me with juicy reviews about how bad it was;) But sweet reviews are more welcome of course haha._

_Personally, I liked Neal's feelings going all over the place like an unsure adolescent._

_X_

_josie_


	14. Chapter 14

Elizabeth hadn't exaggerated about her husband. Peter _was_ getting worse.

He tried to hide it from her, but apparently the two broken legs, a crushed ribcage and a misty mind made it very difficult to conceal something. And the meds weren't helping him either, since he couldn't stop babbling out his partners name and how sorry he was for abandoning him there on the streets.

The poor guy wandered there all alone, for nearly two weeks, on the streets of New York. Thirsty, starving and freezing his butt off in the cold nights of October, Peter felt so bad. While he was drugged op in a warm bed with his wife at his side Neal was out there in a very bad and confused, and don't forget about his _blind, _state! Oh man… he felt so responsible.

Peter blamed himself for falling into that stupid coma, not been able to _help_ him or _think_ about the possibility that Neal could still be out there, somewhere. Dammit! He was Neal! He should have known… In case of danger that kid was always able to land on his four paws, like a cat.

He needed to see him. Talk to him.

He wanted to be there for him…

Not just like a _partner_.

But more like a _friend_.

...

Elizabeth knew that.

All of it.

Despite his own pains he suffered after he woke up from a dream, Peter needed to see Neal. His eyes were red-rimmed, everytime when he woke up; from the crying spells he had, sometimes.

And the paleness of his skin said it all.

The poor man… The misplaced guilt was killing him.

She had to do something, like _this_. Getting Neal for him. So they could finally see each other… no, _talk_ to each other again.

For both sakes. She couldn't handle another crying fit. He cried so much. It was horrible.

Peter used to be a strong man. He _never _cried before. Never.

Peter's doctor blamed this depressed state and those crying-spells on the medicine, floating to his bloodstream and numbing his already damaged brain.

And Elizabeth had to realized that the nurses were a lot more involved with her and Peter then the doctor, the last few days. Cold bastard! That's what he was! The nurses seemed to understand the situation much better. One young med student in particular. She came by, this morning. And she said something that brought Peter out of his sorrowed thoughts. Something changed his sad blank stares into a slight sparkling glare. It was just one short and hopeful gaze. But it meant something.

"_I just talked to my friend upstairs. She overheard the nurse who is treating your friend. He is doing better. She told me Mr. Caffrey's fever has finally broke. And that he was a lot more allusive. I thought you might wanted to know that."_

He glared at Elizabeth, after that. With his bright big brown eyes. He didn't say anything. He didn't flutter his eyes or smirk like he always did when he was feeling relieved about something. If her Peter felt a little better he probably would pull that adorable oblique smile.

…

And here she was, standing in the elevator with Neal's personal nurse, Mozzie at her side, cleaning his glasses with his paper handkerchief. His bald head was a little sweaty. And then there was Neal, sitting there awfully quiet in his wheelchair. Everyone acted a little tense. But Elizabeth knew she did the right thing.

A "ping" sounded through the small elevator room. Betty gave Neal a pat on his bony shoulder, to sooth his fear. "There we go. We are on the second floor now. Peter's room isn't far from this, right Mrs. Burke?" Betty only asked to ease Neal's shivers.

"No. It's not far," she assured him with a soft voice. Her eyes met Betty's and they both nodded. Mozzie took a deep breath while he put on his glasses again, and waited for the doors to open.

They all knew what would come, when Peter sees Neal for the first time after the accident. There will definitely be tears involved. Peter most definitely will be shocked about Neal's bruised face and carved out body. But how will Neal react to this? That was actually a great mystery.

They all hoped for that sweet and fluffy kind of reaction, just like in the movies. With fluffy melodramatic music, playing on the background. Slow motion hugs and candycakes with lots of laughter at the end.

But what if Neal was going to freak out? Mozzie had seen Neal freaking out before when he was having an anxiety attack, yesterday. And decided he didn't like that very much. In fact. It was awful.

When the gray metal doors finally opened Neal winced at the different kind of noises. The hallway wasn't that crowded, but Betty wheeled himquietly though it, anyway. Until Elizabeth made a gesture to the closed door. "My husband is in here. Oh, and Neal. Before we go in I have to tell you something about his condition as well. He is heavily sedated and very weak. Both legs are broken and he has a hard time breathing from the accident. So I guess you should be a little careful with him, too." Neal's head shot up to hers. For the first time since she saw his face El saw Neal's brows move upward. She even saw his swollen eyelids slit open a little. He looked so concerned about Peter. Something odd was going on inside his head. It was like he woke up from some kind of a nightmare. She couldn't quite place it.

"Uh, Elizabeth? Can I ask you something?"

El blinked in surprise. _He addressed her with her first name?_ "Of course, Neal."

"W-was he in the same accident as I was? Your husband… Peter?"

_Yup, there we go, _she thought when her eyes teared up. El nodded. But realized Neal couldn't see her. So she said "Yes" instead. Neal nodded quietly. He gasped a little as his brows furrowed. "Then he must be that guy," he whispered. Betty and El looked up at each other in wonder.

"Who?" Betty, who was standing behind the wheelchair, asked. Her hand grasped his shoulder for comfort.

"The brown eyed man… I-I have seen him before… In my dreams… He is always yelling at me…" Neal shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He is mad at me, is he?" There was a short silence. El didn't know what to say. _What kind of memory was he referring to?_ Mozzie was awfully quiet and again he started to clean his glasses. And when Betty wanted to say something to stop the awkwardness, she was interrupted by a bleeping noise.

"Ow shoot. Sorry. That's me. A patient upstairs needs me. Is it okay for me to leave, Neal?" She stroked his shoulders as if she wanted to warm him up for the fantoom cold, like a mom did with her child. Neal tensed up and shook his head. "Wow, n-no… you can't leave me here. Please?" Mozzie almost jumped up from that reaction. "You heard him. Can it wait?" he asked the nurse nervously. But Betty shook her head.

"Listen, Neal. Your with great friends. I will be back as soon as possible. Some of the patients upstairs are suffering from the flu. The hospital is cut down on personnel. I'm sure you can handle this by yourself. Can you?"

Neal obviously didn't like this kind of surprises but he didn't have another choice. Besides, he came this far. He shouldn't fuss over this. So he didn't. Without any words he was left alone with these friends and they wheeled him inside a room to meet another one. It all happened to fast.

…

Peter was still asleep. He hadn't move a muscle since El left him of a few minutes and accidentally run into a tired looking Mozz down the hall.

"There we are, Neal. He is right affront of you. But he is sleeping. You want me to wake him now?" El asked softly. She wanted to be as gentle as she could. Neal just sat there. Listening to the wheezing breaths and bleeping noises. Mozzie was getting very uncomfortable, all of the sudden, and excused himself for another coffee run.

"H-he is badly hurt. Elizabeth? Is he? Shouldn't you let him sleep? I mean… if he needs his rest you really shouldn't wake him, right?" Neal stuttered softly. His hands were fumbling shyly with the buttons of his saggy black vest. He looked so small and innocent. El let draw a deep sigh and walked to her husband.

"He is feeling better if he finally sees you, Neal. He never stopped thinking about you. Peter was so worried," she said over her shoulder as she carefully started to shake her husband. "Hon? Can you wake up?" His chest made an awful crackling sound when Peter took a strong inhale and the poor man coughed painstakingly, a few times after that. Neal perked up from his seat and looked even more worried.

"Shhhh, Hon. It's okay. Take a good breath and open your eyes for me, okay?" A low moan came from Peter's dry lips and he mumbled some indistinct words.

"Hon? Peter?"

"El… Just 'thought 'bout you…" finally his eyelids opened. Two glazed over brown orbs were staring up at her. A smirk came next. But then his rosy cheeks from his sleep went white again. It was something she'd seen him do before.

"El? Where are my legs?" he asked in fear. "Can't feel them…"

"Oh, hon. Not again. You always forget that part. You are heavily sedated. Your legs are still there. Just very broken from the accident, remember?" Her voice was light considering the seriousness of this conversation.

Neal didn't get it. Why was El so amused about her panicing husband?

And then, he could hear a small chuckle from the man. "Oh yeah… Forgot again… Sorry hon…" A smacking sound followed, probably a kiss. Neal relaxed a little.

"Peter. There is someone here to see you." El got herself saying it all wrong. "To talk to you," she enhanced herself.

_A rustling sound. _

Peter tried to look up at the young looking man sitting straight up in the wheelchair. He didn't recognize the prone figure at first. It must have been the meds. But the guy looked like a meercat. Staring down at him with those black and stern eyes..._ Or not... wow wait! No no no... _

Then a shocked gasp came out of his mouth. "Oh God," he muttered in shock. _It must be him... He was here!_ "No... I am dreaming, right? This can't be him. El?" The heart monitor went wild. _Neal. Oh my God! His face! his eyes! He looks awful!_

"That's not the same Neal I know. That's not him!" he gasped out. He was raving again. _Peter...Morron! don't say those things to Neal..._

"But Peter... He _is_. Hush now. Calm down. You are scaring him." She felt so bad for Peter, and poor Neal as well. Neal didn't deserve this. But El should've known Peter wasn't himself when he was drugged up. At least he didn't tell the truth about his bruised face.

"El, what are you trying to do with me?" Peter raved again. His glazed eyes where locked on the shivering person a front of him.

This meeting wasn't going so well, after all.

"Elizabeth? I-is he okay?" Neal asked very scared from the spooked out voice. Was he really looking that bad? He bowed his head a little to hide himself. "Sorry…" he said. "I should go..." _Oh no he don't!_

"Hon. Calm down, calm down. Or you will hurt yourself. Lie back down, please." Both hands were pushing him back on the pillow. "Look at me." She was gaving him her biggest disapproving look of all times. Peter already lost his breath and huffed painfully. When she finally had the time to look behind at the scared man she shoke her head shamefully.

"Don't say you're sorry, sweety. You didn't do anything wrong. It was my fold. Maybe I shouldn't bring you here in the first place… I am sorry..." her voice died when Peter called out his partners name. Peter sounded as his usual old self. It caused Neal to focus in _aw_. Like if he stared to regonize him. His voice, anyway.

"Neal." It was all he had to say for her to start sobbing. Her hands got up to her mouth.

The poor man, dressed in a gown and a vest, tilted his head a bit. "P-Peter Burke…"

The man in the hospital bed huffed out a faint chuckle.

"Yeah. That's me.. sorry about that... I wasn't fully wake yet... I kind of thinking I might be still dreaming." What happened when the building explode was so frightful. But seeing him like that wasn't easy either.

He still couldn't believe it. This was Neal! He was so glad to see him, but the way he looked wasn't something to be all jubilate about it. Some flashes went through his drugged up mind. Seeing Neal again when he smiled down at him with those bleeding eyes, just before he passed out after the last explosion. It was a horrific memory.

"If I wasn't so blind and all I would say that you are looking like you've seen a ghost," Neal suddenly said with a familiar smirk on his battered face. "You sound like something like that to me, you know."

"Yeah. I kinda did, didn't I," Peter chuckled again. Then it went quiet. But it wasn't a bad and awkward kind of silence. El saw Neal loosen up a bit. He rested his back against the wheelchair and took a deep breath. Peter did the same. His heartbeat was easing down too.

"So… partners, ha?" Neal asked softly. Peter nodded.

"Yes."

"I must be a real pain in the ass than. In my flashes I only see that you are constantly yelling at me." They laughed.

"You are… but I can handle it. Most of the times." Neal nodded. El was so relieved, right now, that she made a good choice after all, she almost fainted. She couldn't imagine what would've happened if this went south. She would never forgive herself.

"Hey, uh. Listen… we must've been good friends back then. In my weird dreams you were always there." Neal let his face hang again. Suddenly a bit ashamed from his own honest words.

"We were. And we still could be. But… I guess we both need a little more time for any other crazy adventures, together." Peter was getting tired again. But something had changed. He smiled. El saw it.

"Yeah," Neal replied. "I talk to you later, Peter. Big day ahead. I need my rest too, I guess." He touched his forehead and scratched around the itchy stitches.

They were pooped. The both of them. El could tell.

So she suggested Neal to go back to his own bed and prepare himself mentally for the surgery. He agreed.

Before El took him back to his room Peter said something that cracked them both up.

"Bye. Good luck finding the door. He is hiding behind that shadowy tree fellow over there. I am gonna go back to my nap now."

"Sure. Take a nap, Peter." Neal never thought he could laugh so relaxed when he wasn't with Nurse Betty. There was something about them. _The Burkes_, he meant…

* * *

**_AN: Peter is a funny fellow when he is drugged on pain meds. I am so glad Neal felt a little more secure around the Burkes after a scary elevator-ride. I hope you all liked it as well ;) Review and I know!_**

**_X_**

**_Josie _**


	15. Chapter 15

In the silence of the small elevator room Elizabeth noticed just how hard her heart was pounding in her throat. Cold sweat stood on her forehead. Despite the fact that she was glad that her little reunion plan eventually had worked out the way she'd hoped for, Elizabeth started to realize what she had done.

Neal was acting so strong around her. _Too strong, actually._

Despite the fact that they just basically had met yesterday, after his concussion. The amnesia had left the man so confused, and still it seemed that Neal felt comfortable around them. It _seemed… _But was he? How could she know for sure? Neal was a pretty good liar. Even to himself sometimes.

_He wasn't okay. _

Maybe he was just being polite.

Ashamed for being afraid of his own friends, maybe?

What had she done? She had pushed it too far. Maybe he was trying to be that other person, that other Neal, just to please her and Peter. Only out of politeness. If _this _Neal was still a little bit the same Neal as the old one they knew, she could count on the fact he tried to con them in making them believe that he was okay. Out of respect maybe? But he wasn't…

She should have seen right through that, like she always did.

Yesterday, when Neal was running a fever and was lying ill in his bed, he looked so… different compare how he acted now… He was so afraid of them. Even scared. He was unable to hide his true feelings from them.

He didn't want anything to do with them.

That made Elizabeth wonder.

A few minutes ago they were here, all together in the same small space. He was being scared and anxious. She saw him tremble so badly.

After Elizabeth introduced herself to him, yesterday, like the rest of them had done, she'd realized that the old Neal might never come back. This was a new and totally different Neal. Al the memories of her and Peter and of anyone else were gone. Maybe for good. Maybe not.

_How could she be so naïve for bringing him to Peter when Neal wasn't even sure he could trust them?_

The doctor had told them that a person who had a severe concussion could exhibit some new characteristics. There could be some changes in Neal's behavior that probably would stick with him for the rest of his life. They had to accept the fact that the old Neal could be gone forever.

It was a possibility this uncertain behavior wasn't cost by the blindness. Or the amnesia. It could be a new part of his life.

Elizabeth just assumed that Neal Caffrey was too stubborn to let a concussion change his strong old self that easily. Neal was one of the strongest people she knew. It was a young and most independent man she had ever met. He always managed to stay ahead in every difficult situation. Neal was the most confident person who was afraid for nothing, and nobody was able to catch him from his crimes. The only man who had ever managed to stop him from falling into a bigger blacker hole was her own husband. Peter.

And that was apparently also the only one who Neal trusted the most. Their bond was so strong. It always has bin. El knew the best. She competed with him for nearly three years. Peter was obsessed about that case. That case about that one clever kid who did those things. Not for the money. But for the adventure.

A memory about what Peter had said to Neal, a few minutes ago, popped in her head.

'_We were. And we still could be. But… I guess we both need a little more time for any other crazy adventures, together.'_

Neal had laughed at those words. Like he was remembering something about that. For a moment he looked like his old self.

But he wasn't...

Maybe Mozzie was right about her plan. He tried to stop her from doing this to Neal. She should've listened to him. That was probably why he left all of the sudden. He didn't dare to watch this.

She should've known.

That Neal consented to the meeting with her husband was one thing. But he probably agreed on this because they wanted him to do this. Nurse Betty was there with him. That was maybe why he agreed. Although… Betty said he could do this. If this was wrong she would have stopped her, right? She had taken care of him for days and had a good picture of Neal's physical and mental health. So if she said he could do it, he could do it.

That woman was even confident enough about leaving him alone with them. So… Elizabeth shouldn't doubt herself so much.

But still… she felt a little selfish.

"Eh… Elizabeth? Why are we standing still in the hallway? Is something wrong?" El shot back in to reality. Her eyes fluttered a moment and then she looked down at the bruised face of the shy-looking young man.

"Oh Gosh. I am so sorry. I was totally zoomed out for a while," El apologized and started wheeling him to his room. But suddenly the chair couldn't roll any further. Surprised at that she looked at the wheels and saw that Neal was blocking the wheels with his slippers.

"Neal? What are you doing?" Neal started to wrench himself until he was almost on both feet.

'I don't feel like sitting any more. Wanna walk to my room by myself, if you don't mind," he said. El frowned at that and nearly let him fall back in the chair when his arm was pulled back from the IV tube.

"Wow! Wait. Uh. Easy there. Let me help you walk, so I can carry the IV bag." She left the chair behind and hooked her arm under Neal's armpit. He was suddenly in a rush to get to his own bed. And when he arrived in his room he started heaving. "Bucket… please…"

Now she understands. He was probably feeling sick from the elevator-ride. Or maybe she got him under too much pressure. She held a bucket affront of him and Neal started to retch.

Nothing came up but he needed so much help after his vomit attack to get on his bed again. He was so death tired. He was shaking all over and looked death pale. When he finally lay flat he took a deep shaky breathe. His body relaxed a little. A soft achonizing moan escaped from his parted lips.

"Oh God. This is all my fold. I put you through too much stress. I am calling Betty, okay?" El was about to push the button when Neal, surprisingly fast and coordinated, grabbed her hand. His eyes moved under his ugly red eyelids.

"Please. Elizabeth. It's nothing. I am just a little nervous about the surgery. Really. This has happened to me before. Belief me. concussions make you queasy. So stop blaming yourself," he said with a hoarse voice. El blinked at him. A faint smile was on his lips. "I see right through it, Misses Burke. You are feeling way too guilty about this." Elizabeth was gotten by surprise and started to chuckle in wonder.

"How did you know what I was thinking? Are you suddenly psychic or something?" Neal pulled up one shoulder, like the old Neal always did. "I don't know. But I feel your eyes are burning holes in me."

"Well… sorry about that, than." Again Neal smiled while he shook his head.

"It was a good thing you got me downstairs to meet Peter. At least now I know one thing for sure. That I have nice friends. His voice, from Peter… I recognized it. It was the way he said my name, I guess. But I am almost curtain that I am starting to remember him." He finally let go of her hand and gave a tired sigh. El smiled and sighed as well. That was a great relieve for her.

"I am glad that you have found something familiar from your past, Neal." There was another silence. She was about to leave the poor man to let him rest a little but Neal obliviously didn't like that.

"Uh, Elizabeth? Can you stay a little longer? Until the doctors are coming to get me?" El was even more surprised at this then Neal himself. But he meant what he asked. And she could tell.

"Sure, Sweatheart. Uh Neal. If that is what you like me to do."

Sweatheart… a name she had given him for some time now and finally could say again. Even if she didn't realize she did. But it made Neal blush.

…

The operation was almost starting. Neal was getting ready in a different room. They had dressed him in a different robe, washed him with a very nice smelling soap and hooked him up on some kind of bleeping monitor. Some nurse had just giving him something to relax and it worked right away. He felt so good. Al the anxious feelings fade away in an instant and he felt a smile was growing on his lips.

"Hey, this isn't so scary after all," he blurred out. In the distant he heard someone chuckle.

"About a minute or two you will get a little sleepy. Then you will get another needle. And that is the real stuff that will put you out completely for an hour or so. Then we could start on your eyes. Remember, you won't feel a thing. And you'll wake up again when it's all over. So, don't worry, okay?" Neal nodded, he was really tired and lightheaded.

"Trussstyou… Goodnight…" he slurred. And he was out.

It didn't take a lot of time to get the transplantation done. There wasn't much blood loss. But what they did found wasn't good after all. Some small pieces of glass where apparently still stuck from the inside of his upper eyelids. They didn't saw this earlier because of the swellings. That must've been very painful. But luckily the body had prevented him from getting even more hurt. The tissue of his skin capsuled the little pieces and that was a good thing. But now that that was cleaned out too, Neal would look a lot better than he did. After 24 hours they will know if his eye muscles are working properly. And maybe Neal would see a little better, too.

* * *

**AN: someone was right in my head with posting a review that El was acting a little selfish. We thought alike! I just stared writing this chapter when I saw the post. That was so scary! But I guess she or he would be pleased now. **

**Did you like this chappie? anyone?**

**review^^ And I will know **

**X**

**Josie **


	16. Chapter 16

"Grass… isss… nicely warm… The sky…. Sooo blue. And the sun… Ohhh. Don't look at the sun…"

Mozzie was sitting next to Neals' bed in the recovery room. He was making himself quite busy with a crossroad puzzle. Every now and then he looked up at his loopy and drugged up friend. It took Neal a long time to recover from the anesthesia. 'It's normal for a man in his condition. Don't worry. It will wear off in about another hour or so. Just keep asking if he needs water,' one male nurse had told him.

"Daddy?" Neal asked all of the sudden. His head got up a few inches from his pillow. Mozzie watched his friend closely. He must be experiencing some kind of memory from his childhood. He didn't talk about it, much. Not to him. Not to anyone. So it got him curious. As gently as he could Mozzie pushed his head down and stroked his curly hair.

"Lie back down, buddy." When his friend eased down again Mozzie let go of his hair and started back on that insane easy puzzle again.

"Just one more…. Time… daddy…Push it a-and I can touch the… clouds."

"Ah, now I see. You are on the swing. You are with your dad at the playground, are ya?" Mozzie asked with a warm smile. He could image an infant Neal laughing and playing like a normal child, with his father. Pure happiness. Despite all the things he had been going through, he had at least that one thing Mozzie never had. _Loving Parents_. Even if that didn't last that long as it should be. He had at least one that epic memory being with his dad in some kind of playground.

"Enjoy it while you can, Neal. You grew up way to fast." Neal nodded in his sleep.

"Think happy thoughts..." Neal slurred. Mozzie chuckled.

"Yeah," he answered him. Even if he knew Neal didn't hear it.

"In case you fall or… get hurt… Just… sing… sing a song… When I'm not around…" Neal said again. His voice was so light and fragile. He sounded like a kid.

Mozzie didn't want to finish his puzzle anymore. His eyes were locked on that smile. White perfect teeth were visible. At least his smile was still perfect. Even that explosion couldn't take that away from him.

Now that Neal was getting quieter, Mozzie sat back in his chair.

"If your sight doesn't return you will need someone. You know how I hate it to stick in a place for too long. But I will do it… But we can of course always get someone else. Someone with a lot more hair than I have. Think blond, my man. And maybe she and Satchmo can be best pals for all I know." Mozzie shook his head in sorrow.

"Either way. I will stick with you, man. That's a promise." Neal smile faded a little. He took a strong inhale and moved his head.

He was waking up. Finally.

"Mozz i-is that you? Where… am I?...Can't see." His voice had changed. It sounded more like himself. Mozzie shot up from his chair. _Neal sounded __**exactly**__ like himself!_

"Neal! I'm right here buddy." His hand touched his arm.

"Mozz? What happened?" Neal asked again. His head goes from right to left as if he wanted to look around. "Dark in here." One hand goes up to his eye patches but Mozz stopped him.

"Leave it there. You just had major eye surgery, my friend. You are at the hospital. Remember?"

Hopeful that Neal was out of his amnesia he waited for his answer. But Neal got quiet again. He let out a sigh and fell back on his pillow.

"No… Can't… Can't eat the strawberries. Mommy said so. I a-am allergic to them. Mommy said so…" Mozzie fell back on his chair with a major disappointment. "Yeah, you told me that ones, buddy. Just keep working with getting your mind back together."

After a long half an hour of little pieces and bits about Neal's childhood and another half an hour of singing, Neal finally came back from his weird long trip. He drank two glasses of water and after the checkup he was brought back to his room. Neal would be as weak as a puppy for the rest of the day. So they let him sleep it off.

…

In the meantime, Dianna came to visit Peter. In her bag she had a gift card from the office. Everyone, including Hughes, had signed his name on it. But the card wasn't the only thing why she came. She also had some news. And she was sure this wasn't something her boss needed to hear, right now.

She knocked on the door ones. And then opened the door. Peter was sitting up in his bed. Watching some lame cooking program on the television, looking really bored out of his skull. El wasn't there with him.

"Hey Boss," she greeted him. It made him startle a bit but when he saw her he immediately relaxed.

"Dianna, I was wondering when you stopped by. How are things at the bureau?" he asked. He shut the TV off and shifted his head on the pillow. Dianna saw right away how good Peter looked compared to the last time she had seen him. "Okay… all things considered. You are looking a little better. How is the pain?" Peter made his half mouthed smirk like he always did.

"Manageable. But at least now I know how to make raspberry gateau," he joked while pointing at the TV. Dianna smiled and started rummaging through her bag. The envelope was a little crippled but she didn't care. All she cared about was how Peter reacted to it. His smile just got bigger. "Hey, is that for me? That's so thoughtful."

"Jones couldn't be here, but he says hi. Stake out down town." Peter nodded while gazing up on all those names on his get well card. "Half of these I even don't know. But I know this one for sure," he pointed at the name _Reese_. "He wants to stop by this evening," Dianna got in the chair next to Peters bed.

"Really? Reese?... That is nice of him. He is a busy man, you know. I don't blame him if he doesn't make it."

"He wants to. In case you don't know, we miss you at the office. This morning when I opened the fridge at work I saw your deviled ham sandwich lying there, on top of Caffrey's rotting croissant. I almost shed a tear. Like a real ponytailed schoolgirl." Peters smile faded but it didn't take long for him to grin again.

"Maybe you should throw them away, if it's getting that smelly." Dianna appreciated that. "Yeah, I mean… If the smell is that bad that it makes even you wanna cry… It has to be bad." Dianna smiled and took the card from him. "Where do you want it?" Peter fumbled with his blanket and shook his head. "Is there any place left on the board?" He was right. He got so many cards by now. It was ridicules.

"I have seen Neal today," Peter announced. Dianna was just finished with sticking the card on the board with a pushpin and looked down at him. She was kind of surprised at this.

"Did he come here? How is he?" Peter shook his head in sorrow.

"Well, I think I scared the crap out of him after yelling at him for no damn reason… I was kinda out of it…"

"Did he say something to you? How did he look?" Dianna lowered herself in the chair again, but her eyes never left her bosses face.

"He didn't _look_. He is blind. Oh God, he looked so terrible. Did you see his forehead? His eyelids? And those arms… Man, he was so skinny. And I scared the crap out of him…" Peter drew a deep sigh.

"But we talked a little anyway. Nothing special, really. I don't even recall where we talked about. I guess I was a little too out of it. I even have no memory of him leaving the room." And then, all of the sudden Peter looked right into Dianna's eyes. His gaze was strong. "He isn't going back to his old job, is he?" It had stricken her. Dianna knew Peter was always right on track with things but how could he know what she just had figured out this morning?

"Peter… I have some news about something. And I don't know if you can take it now. But the Marshalls made a decision, concerning the collaboration with Neal Caffrey as a CI." She didn't dare going any further. Because Peter already knew what was happening.

"They are giving up on him? Aren't they? They wanted to ship him back to prison after his recovery?"

Peter bit his lip in anger. "They are just assuming that he never recovers from this blindness. We can't do that to him. We can't ship him back like that. He isn't a criminal."

"I know. We all know. Hughes is working on that. There are different possibilities within the agency. Hughes says he can give him a desk job or something better. We have had a blind receptionist before. Don't you remember? Lisa? She always took care of the phones." Peter wasn't happy with this. "The man loses his eyes and everyone just assumed Neal can do nothing anymore. He is a smart guy. He can be more useful to us than taking calls all day."

Dianna knows that. But Peter had missed the whole point. The Marshalls already had made their decision. Hughes was doing his best. Neal has to take whatever they have for him. Like a simple desk job. He didn't have a choice. They all hadn't.

"Rest up, Peter. We need you out there. You can help Neal the most if you are back on your own feet again."

She was right.

...

After this visit Peter wished that this was some kind of drug induced dream. But it wasn't…

Poor Neal. His best friend just found little pieces of his life back. And now the bureau was hanging him out to dry.

He deserved better…

* * *

**_AN: Wow! This cute and sad chapter just fell out of my mind:O_**

**_Sorry for the mess.. lol_**

**_Review maybe?_**

**_X_**

**_Josie_**


	17. Chapter 17

It has been 24 hours after the surgery. And Neal had slept most of the time. The nutritionist came by ones, to talk about his ridicules diet. Mostly to scare him what starving yourself could do to your internal organs. She was there for about 30 minutes and Neal nodded a lot. But he understood only half of it, because he kept distracted by noises down the hall. But the point was: He had to start eating normally because otherwise he could get some kidney failure. His rib case was starting to show and that wasn't something to be proud of.

Neal had to admit he was a little spooked at her stern and intimidating tone but he was still too tired and weak to actually give a crap. But anyhow… he promised to do his best and eat his breakfast without a fuss.

Nurse Betty came by ones, too. She talked a little about her busy day and how bad she felt about leaving him all alone this afternoon but Neal couldn't focus on her words. He remembered saying that they might had giving him too much sedative. And after that he fell asleep again.

But all and all, he had survived the surgery and felt good, all things considered.

And now… was the moment where he was waiting for. To take off those bandages and see if they had fixed his eyes. Neal was so excited. He couldn't wait to pull the patches off by himself.

The surgeon who had done this procedure was there with him. And Nurse Betty of course.

"Can I do it?" Neal asked her eagerly.

"Yes you can, Neal. You earned it after eating your breakfast without leaving a crumb on your plate." Neal felt a little embarrassed a front of the doctor but let it slide, since he was acting like a child to her all week. He started ripping the tape of his forehead, and of course that hurt a little. But it was worth it. He was so excited that his heart was beating so fast. And when he managed to pull one patch off of his eye he froze. He tried to look around and at least expected to see some colors and light. But unfortunately, nothing happened.

"I don't see… I-I still don't see anything doc." He was so disappointed. "The surgery failed."

"Oh I don't think so Mr. Caffrey. Just give it some time. At least try to open your eyes first. Remove the patch from the other one, please." Neal drew a sigh. His shoulders slumped, almost given up to the fact he still was as blind as a bat.

"Need some help, sweety?" Betty asked when Neal couldn't find the ends of the tape.

"No!"

He fumbled some more and finally got rid of it. The surgeon came closer to look at his work and told Neal he was going to open his eye's one by one to flash some lights in them. Neal thought that this was going to hurt like the first time doctor Kevin did this. But he was surprised he didn't feel any pain. After the surgeon was done he nodded pleased at the nurse. Neal tied to open his eyes but his muscles didn't work.

"Your pupils are still a little dilated but responding. And the cornea is looking clear. That means you would see some colors and light like I promised you. But you didn't use the eye muscles for a long time. So you need to practice on that one."

"That explains why I can't open my eyes. But you are sure that I can see a little after, what? A couple of hours? A day?" Neal asked hopefully.

"That's a defined maybe. But I can't promise that your full sight comes back. I am afraid your retinas are too damaged by the heat and light exposure of the explosion. For some reason it seemed like your left eye is the critical one. The right eye has some small spots in the middle but still slightly operating." For some reason that made Neal very upset.

"You telling me this _now_?" he asked. His brows got up and it made some weird wrinkles with the stitched up forehead.

"I am sorry, Mr. Caffrey. We had talked about it earlier but I am guessing you can't remember. You were running a high fever back then. But yeah. I can't do something with the retinas. But we can implant adjusting contacts later. But that's for the future. First you will need to learn how to use the lids again. And the rest will come within days of practice." Neal nodded. "But I won't be completely blind anymore?" he asked quietly.

"No, you won't. Just keep that in mind, okay?"

Neal nodded.

"Good."

That was all the surgeon could do for the moment and he left the room in a sudden hurry. Leaving an very upset Neal behind. Betty watched him closely. It was hard to figure out what was going on inside that damaged head. Neal sat on the edge of his bed and let his head fall on his chest. One little tear was falling on his white hospital gown and Neal swept another one away from his sore cheek. Silently she walked to him and lowered herself down on the bed next to him. By the time she swung her arm around his back, Neal was sobbing slightly. He didn't move a muscle. He just sat there. Sniffle in his snot, while crying soundless.

It took a while figuring out what to say to this poor man. But then she remembered something from a couple of months ago.

_A man of his age walked in with his pregnant wife. Just for a checkup, he said. Betty was there when one of the doctors had made a wrong diagnose and send them away. That evening, than man lost his wife and unborn child. Because the doctor had said she just had a urinary infection. He had given her some meds. And it killed her. Betty was there. She saw the doctor fail. And tried to explain this wasn't a urinary infection. She was so sure of it because of one feeling. A simple feeling that something bad was going to happen. She had told the doctor that. But he was so mad at her for doubting his professional judgment. It almost had cost her the job. It wasn't fair. _

_But at least she had a life ahead after this. That poor soul who had lost his wife and unbornchild was left alone. _

She didn't know why she told Neal all of this. But she felt the words roll off her tongue anyway. When Neal had stopped crying and semi-looked at her, with his closed lids, she suddenly knew _why_.

"Don't ignore your feelings. If something doesn't feel right, use it. Use it to make a difference. Because in some cases you will never have a second chance to prove you are right about something." Neal nodded. His nod faded away as he let his head fall on his chest again. Betty stroked his back, still trying to figure out badly why she had the feeling to tell him all of that.

"You are right, Betty. I have to keep hope. I am blind. Who cares? I am not dead yet." He smiled. Betty shook her head at that.

"That's not what I meant. You've been through a lot lately. It's okay to cry. Sometimes it helps to talk about your feelings." Again Neal nodded and smeared his nose on the back of his hand. He started thinking about this. His face has gotten pale.

"I-I feel… sad. But that is kinda obvious. But now I think of it… I feel that I am not as lost as I think I was. I might never be that same man who I was before. But I live."

Betty nodded.

"That's what I wanna hear," she said with a smile on her face and bumped his shoulder with hers.

"Maybe I will see again someday. But I might as well start with seeing what's out there. In the world. Without seeing, you know…" Neal swept his cheeks again. His behavior chanced.

"Now that we are talking… I have a favor to ask." Betty fluttered her eyes in surprise. "Sure thing, sweety. What do you want me to do?" Neal shrugged his shoulders. He took some time to find his words.

"There is a man… his name I keep mixing up with _Peter_. Uh… _Paul_? Paul.. I am sure… He is a homeless man. He brought me here, I think. The memory is still a little vague."

Betty remembered him from the security tape she accidently saw.

"Yes. I know how he looks like," she whispered her eyes grew big as she watched the man struggle with his feelings. "What about him?"

"I want him to give my shoes. And maybe some new close, too. I will buy for it if I found my wallet. That black smelly vest is _his_. He gave it to me, I didn't want it. But he gave it anyway. He is still out there somewhere. He was nice. A nice man. I feel so sorry for him. Can you find him for me, please?" Betty straightened her back. She couldn't do that. It wasn't safe for her to be alone on the streets of New York and ask around for the man named Paul. Even if she wants to.

"My friends are with the bureau. Can you ask them to find him for me?" he asked as if he knew where she was thinking about. She gulped her throat. "O-of course."

It was amazing how this little conversation went.

But Neal stated to squirm all of the sudden. His forehead frowned.

"He needed help as much as I did. But no one even took the time to listen to his problems. A hero. A true hero… Paul… i-is…" He jerked up at her. His face was as white as a sheet by now. His arm went up to his head and he started shivering. "Peter…. P-Peter? Oh no…n-no… That's going on?" Neal started babbling weird al of the sudden. Then Betty saw that something was going on with Neal.

"Neal?"

His shoulders started to twist in jolts. His breath hitched. And his hand started to shake. In fact, his whole body started to shiver and jerk like he was having some kind of seizure. "Something is happening… I don't feel good…." he shuttered.

That was about the last thing he could get out before it went bad. He fell backward on his bed and started shaking and jerking like he was getting electrocuted. Betty got up from the bed and ran to the emergency phone.

"I need a doctor in here! Patient is seizing!"

There was no time to think about how sad it was for this young man, to go through this.

Apparently, he already had bitten on his tongue, because blood was pouring out of his mouth. Without thinking she placed the blanket in his mouth. So he couldn't do more damage to himself. The guy was seizing so bad. His body shook all over. Sweat was forming on his weak and thin body. He slapped his hand against her face ones, only after banging against his own jaw. It was bad.

Two doctors came in and gave him some valium to stop his muscles from the spasms. And finally Neal eased down. After all this was done Neal was brought to the CT scan for an MRI. But everyone could tell this had something to do with the surgery. Maybe a blood clod was blocking the circulation in his brain. Sadly enough, this was quite common after facial surgery.

This could be serious. Betty couldn't do anything further for Neal as she watched him passing out. But she needed to find his friends to tell them what just had happened.

* * *

**AN: Bamm! Another chapter. Just to make up the absentness when my laptop died;) how did you like my little twised? **

**Review maybe?^**

**X**

**Josie **


	18. Chapter 18

Completely unaware of what was happening, upstairs, Peter was enjoying the moment as it was for him. He felt so strong now. Free from his bed.

Here, sitting in a chair that supported his legs. "Just chilling, you know," he said a couple of times to the people that walked by and started to wonder why he was smiling at them.

Peter could almost smell the fresh cold October air outside. Even if he still was on the second floor with closed windows and all.

A sigh of relief washed over him. Everything was going to be okay. Hughes promised that Neal would get his own job back, soon. He promised!

Peter thought about that quick visit he had from Hughes, yesterday. It was a little awkward at first, knowing that your bag of urine was hanging on the left side of the bed and his senior Boss was sitting on the other side, talking about formal stuff at the cases they were working on without him. But when Peter got a little emotional about Neal's situation, relating on the job, and eventually started to cry, Reese stern and stiff look changed immediately. _Damn medicine! It made him turn into a softy._

But it was a good thing he did. Because Reese showed him something that he rarely saw on the old man. His face melted. He smiled at him with such a tender look in his eyes. He cared! _Uh yeah duh! Of course he did! He was almost like a father to him. Like he was his son. In a weird un-showing way. _One hand fell on his as Reese hunched forward.

"It is okay, Peter. Neal won't be going anywhere. Not on my watch. We will figure something out. He is too valuable to my unit. And besides that, that sneaky son of a bitch has a little grown on me, too. We are not going to lose him again. You have my word."

_Reese's word._ That meant a lot to Peter.

He thought about this all day. That same evening Mozzie came by to tell that Neal's surgery went great according to the surgeon. Now they had to wait for tomorrow, that was now, for the real news.

Peter himself was feeling a little better somehow. He got rid of the IV with that strong stuff for his chest. _Finally._ But he was still on meds that made him a little tired and numb. _What was it called again? Vicodin? No… that was for his legs. A well. Who cares anyway. He was feeling a lot more alert. End of story. _

One of the nurses had a great idea this morning. She let him sit in a big armchair on wheels (actually just a big wheelchair, but armchair sounded a lot better in his head) down the hall. So that he could look out of a big window. 'It may do you some good, after a long time of lying down,' she said with a bright smile on her cheeks.

Well… she was right! He felt amazing!

El would be so proud of him, that he was finally well enough to get out of his bed. He couldn't wait to see her and show off his chair. A smirk grew on his face as he watched the people walk by. It was a sunny but cold day. Outside the hospital Peter could see a nurse talk to another nurse, both sunken deeply in their jackets, smoking a cigarette. Just there in the parking lot. The smoke was going up and Peter smirked again.

He enjoyed it.

Still unaware of what was happening, upstairs.

Until his wife ran into him with one exiting smile. Peter thought she was just glad to see him like this, but there was something else. Although her eyes did catch the chair for one second but she didn't comment on it. So this was something bigger than his improvements. At least more important to _her_.

"Hon! You can't belief what just happened," she said and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

_Oh scratch that_. Whatever that something was, Peter liked it already!

"I need to go upstairs. Doctor Walls, Neal's doctor, just confirmed that Neal just came out of his amnesia." She gave her husband another big kiss and Peter chuckled a little confused. El was so happy. He hadn't seen her like this for a long time, now. And oh boy did he miss that smile.

"Really? Why? I mean… How? Did he fell on his head again? Like in the cartoons?" he mumbled a little silly with it all. It made El laugh but shook her head in total seriousness. "No not exactly, Hon. He had a seizure after his surgery. Somehow it made him remember. Let's get to him. Mozzie will be there, too."

"Oh boy, that's amazing! I sure picked a good day getting this portable." It made her even happier and started wheeling him carefully to the elevator. It was hard to push the large wheelchair around. His long legs were sticking out like tentacles. And El just notices how many decorating unhandy plant pots were standing in the hallway, like obstacles! "Did you even notice the wheelchair?" Peter asked all silly from the drugs, that were still running through his veins, apparently.

"Yeah sorry, Hon. I noticed. Nice wheels. Can you keep it?"

"Let's hope so."

This all was happening right freaking NOW!

To them it was all of the sudden and great. But before Kevin had called Misses Burke a few things happened.

_So let me help you and start over at the beginning…_

…

Neal was taken back to his room after one hour of testing right after the seizure. His surgeon couldn't explain why his patient just got it out of the blue. The MRI showed nothing. There wasn't a blood clod. In fact, there was nothing life threatening going on the inside of his head that was caused by the surgery at all.

Neal's tip of his tongue was almost bitten in half but that would be fine, too. Sure it will hurt for a while but that is nothing compere to what could have happened if it was going south.

But someone wasn't so sure she could be happy after this. It was so awful to watch. She thought that the poor man was gonna die right affront of her.

"I don't understand this. I was just talking to him and he started seizing,' Betty told Doctor Kevin. Kevin checked his vitals and listened to his heartbeat. When he was done he turned to her, hanging his stethoscope back on his neck again.

"Nurse. How can you still do this job without losing that big heart of yours? Relax. The patient is fine. Maybe his jumbled mind reboots himself after remembering something significant he couldn't bear. Something that his mind tries to forget, for all I know. It is possible, Betty. That happens all the time." He gave the nurse a pat on her shoulder.

At that Betty pulled an eyebrow. "So, you are basically telling me that this seizure was actually a good thing? Are you out of your mind?" The _always _calm doctor chuckled while shaking his head. "Oh Nurse Betty, you haven't a clue how out of the mind I am, sometimes. But that's not what I am doing right now. I am telling you: stop putting yourself into these absurd situations."

Kevin took Betty by her shoulders and squeezed her a little. Betty blinked confused at the doctor. Completely unknowing of what he meant by that. Kevin slimed a little.

"Nurse Betty… you have to let go of all those unnecessary guilty feelings. I know you are blaming yourself for all those things. But don't. Please. Just stop with that. You are making yourself crazy. When do you see the fact that you are the most caring and talented person around here in this place? Whatever you two were talking about, you probably did him a great favor."

"I am still not following you, mister. So it _is_ all my fault now. And I can't blame myself?" Betty asked him with a disapproving look. Kevin just chuckled.

"Okay. Question: What happens if a computer shuts down after a malfunctioned program?" Betty smirked. "so we are talking about computers now? You are spending way too much time in the psych ward, Kevin. I don't like the guessing games. Not while I am on duty."

"The computer reboots itself, when you make it restart. A brain is just like that, only a lot more difficult to see through the engineering." Finally Kevin let go of her and stepped aside to look at the sleeping patient affront of him. Neal was out. He was sleeping with the head-side of the bed upwards so he didn't swallow his tongue or anything. Some small patches with little wires were spread all over his body. He was hooked up on a machine so that they could see if everything was still working after this scary adventure. All seemed to be in order. And that was good.

"Call me if he wakes up. And please, Betty. Take a break. You look like an insomniac flu patient _pretending_ to be a nurse." After the doctor left she shook her head in confusion but a smile was on her lips. Doctor Kevin was a weird guy. But he sure knew how to make yourself feel good again. He knew how to make an accident feel like it was actually a good thing. However, she hoped that he was right about this. If Neal was suddenly out of his amnesia, things finally were looking up for him.

She sunk in one chair, next to Neal's bed and closed her eyes for a moment. Just one moment…

…

Forty minutes further, Betty discovered that Neal was talking in his sleep. He talked about things she never had heard on him before. Baseball was just one big put-up job to get people on edge, paying a lot of money on to something that wasn't even real.

That was exactly what he'd said. After that he slept some more but when he started to talk about some missing Greek artifact, and started referring to his handler, with using the name Peter a lot, Betty realized that some things about his past were finally revealing to himself.

Anyway… After some time Neal woke up and started to ask where the hell he was and what they were doing with him. The name Peter had fallen a couple of times too. So maybe Kevin wasn't so wrong and nonchalant about that computer talk, after all.

And that was a good… No… it was a _Very_ good sign. That was the moment when she disided to call the doc and doctor Walls came in who called Elizabeth to inform her about this recovery. She called Mozzie who was with June and everyone was all exited.

Although, Neal wasn't that responsive yet for receive the visit with open arms. He was so sleepy. He kept falling in sleep.

It was normal for a patient to feel exhausted after that awful experience. A seizure cost a lot of energy from your body. It tenses up for five or sometimes even sixteen minutes. Every muscle in your body starts to move uncontrollably until the brain eases down. With or without any help from the doctor's. The brain may need some time to recuperate and that can take some time. Of course it depends on how good or bad the patient's condition is in. But as for Neal, he didn't have much strength left at the moment, so it could take a while.

…

'_Hi guy's. Hi Peter. Come right in. Neal is okay. He just fell right back to sleep a minute ago.'_

'_Mr. Suit! Looking good. Nice wheels.'_

'_Thanks Mozz.'_

'_Ssshhh… his eyes are moving. I think he is waking up.' _

…

Something had change. It was difficult to understand. But the air around him felt hot, somehow. Then there were the smells, which describe that he wasn't at home. Unless, one of June's maids was having a serious clean-attack, in the middle of the night.

'_Yes, I think he is coming to.'_

A weird feeling told him that someone was staring down at him from his bed. For some reason his body ache all over. And when he tried to find the light switch next to his bed an eager hand grabbed his wrist. It startled him so bad he almost yelped but a weird kind of numbness prevented him from getting up. We wanted to swear but his lips didn't move so he just kept breathing fast.

"Neal. Oh God. You okay?" a far too familiar voice barked in his ears. He winched. What was he doing at his apartment in the middle of the night? The noises around him started to make some sense. That only made him clear that he wasn't at home. He didn't hear the always so familiar rattling sound of his fridge. Or that old clicking clock that hang above the door of the walk-inn closet, making his familiar tune. That always made him feel relax and calm after the most difficult times in his crazy life.

"Neal. Are you okay?"

"Wow, Mozz. He is not deaf, you know," El muttered.

"_Whud?..."_ Elizabeth was here too? _"God no…What've I done…"_

Okay, _Neal thought a little embarrassed of himself_, he had to be honest. He may have had a little too much to drink, last night. Because, he didn't remember a damn thing.

Suddenly very aware of his weakness, Neal tried to find the light switch again. Oh man... he was way too drunk for his own good. So dizzy. So groggy. His stomach started to roll when he tried to move. So Nauseous too! He gave up the battle with a great sense of shame. "Does Peter know you're here?" he asked Elizabeth with a slurring voice. God, he sounded terrible.

"I know. I am here too, buddy. We are all here. How are you?"

"_Whud?"_ he mumbled again. _"What was this? A slumber party?"_

A chuckle came out of Peter, probably still because of the drugs.

'He is funny.'

'_He sure is sounding like himself. But I don't think he remembers what has happened to him.'_

'_Just give it time. The memories shall return back if he gets the hang of it. Just let him wake up, first,'_ a total different female voice caught Neal's ears.

"'_The hell? H-how many where invited? Does June know about this?" _

Neal didn't like surprises. Not this kind. So he tried to sit up. But his body left like a ton. He only managed to get his head from his pillow.

"Can someone pleaaase turn on the light?" he asked annoyed. His voice was getting better. For some reason he got the hang of it and tried to look around. Then a few flashes of grayish spots where swinging in the corners of his eyes. He wanted to blink but he couldn't do that task without falling back on his pillow first. Man! His body hurts!

A moment passed.

Then a thought came to mind. It was more like a question he needed to ask the most.

"Where am I?" he asked. Because he knew he wasn't at home, or at the Burkes.

"Mister Caffrey? You are at the hospital. Can you tell me what happened?"

"… A… Hospital?"

* * *

**_AN: I know this story got a little painful with all the things I did to our buddy's. Just remember it isn't real and be glad I am not the white collar writer. Then the series were too awful to watch;) my style is always a little overdramatic and sad. Hopefully now you can understand why I made that twist about the seizure. He is out of his amnesia now. This has happened to someone I know, you know. These appearance exsist:)_**

**_Review and stuff. I will work on another chapter. good day!_**

**_X_**

**_Josie_**


	19. Chapter 19

"A-a hospital? Are you sure?" Neal's head popped up to look around but his muscles were too weak to hold its weight any longer than two seconds until he fell back on his pillow again.

"How do I know that you are telling the truth if I can't see squat. Who are you again?" Betty blinked her eyes in confusion. This young man wasn't the same person she treated the last few days. _This _Neal acted so different. Almost as if he didn't want anything to do with her anymore. And well… that was totally understandable of course. He needed his friends now. Not her. Not anymore. Now she had to act like some nurse with real answers. So Betty straightened her back and did what she had to do; putting her feeling aside and go on.

"Mister Caffrey, it is very important to me to know what's your last memory until now. I promise you that I will fill in the blanks, later. But please, I have to know if you're fully back with us."

This made Neal very anxious. He obviously didn't like it when he didn't quite understand what was going on. Then a grayish silhouette of a hand came out of the darkness and fell on his chest. Neal tried to blink this gray curtain away but his vision didn't approve.

"Sweetheart, don't be afraid. It's only us. You can relax. Listen to Nurse Betty," a warm and sweet voice whispered softly.

"Elizabeth," Neal whispered back, starting to feel a little woozy again. It was strange. He was a little on edge but he also felt so sleepy and weak. He didn't understand. "You have warm hands," he blurred out. Then he blinked his eyes again. Trying to fight against his slumber.

"Do we need to push him into the right direction or…" Mozzie murmured to the nurse. That Balt guy was always in a hurry. Neal heard the woman sigh.

_'No. I don't think he is ready to hear it all. Let him sleep in. He is been through a lot.'_ The voices started to fade. The hand on his chest started to stroke gently. Neal felt so bad for abandoning them. But he was just so damn tired. He couldn't stay awake…

Until he remembered something.

'_**Mr. Suit! Looking good. Nice wheels.' **_

Mozzie had said that earlier when he woke up. _What's up with that?_

Around him everyone started to walk away from his bed. _To give him some privacy,_ he guessed.

"Wait… p-please. Peter… what's up with you?... W-wheels?" All words came out so sloppy and meaningless. But apparently it got some attention.

There were some whispers and El's hand came back on his aching chest. "Sweatheart? What do you remember about Peter?" Her voice was hasty and sharp. So there was something with Peter. Wheels… wheels… Wheelchair? He was in a hospital! O God. They both were hurt. How could that happened? Why couldn't he remember?

"Mister Caffrey?" That strange woman's voice again! Neal bit his lower lip and clenched his fist on to the blanket. He was trying so hard to gather some strength and squeezed his eyelids together. A memory came to mind. He was crossing the street with Peter. They had a talk about something… something unimportant. Peter was inviting him over for dinner. Then a smell caught his nostrils. Something bitter, yet delicious.

Neal gasped as he realized what he just remembered. His sore eyes grew big.

"Coffee," he shrieked out.

That made Peter snort.

"I don't think this is a good time for coffee, Neal." A slapping sound caught Neal's ears.

"Hush, hon."

"Neal, I didn't catch that. Care to elucidate?" Mozzie asked. He sounded far away from his bed.

Neal understands the confusion so he tried again.

"We went across the street for a coffee. T-that's the last thing I remember…" he admitted. His strength faded away in the proses. "There… I said it. Your turn nurse. What is wrong with me? Can't see so well and my body aches all over."

Apparently, it took a while for the nurse to find the right words. That made him very stiff with fair.

"Well… This is probably very difficult for you to understand… but… You and Peter were involved by an accident. You two were walking by when a building blew up by a gas-explosion. The reason why I had to know if you remembered something about this was because you suffered from severe concussion and didn't know who you were for the last two weeks. And… about your eyes. Well, they were damaged by the extreme heat and light exposure. Apparently you were looking straight in the flames and blast when the building exploded. " Her blood was boiling in her neck and face when she explained it all. Her eyes fell on Neal's white face. A faint flash of blue got her eyes from under the half lidded eyelids.

"Whud… an explosion? No! I can't… She is lying. Is she? I-I can't be blind. Elizabeth? Mozz? Peter. Peter… Come on. Tell me the truth."

"She is telling the truth, kiddo."

Neal shook his head as he tries to catch his breath.

"No… This is just a dream. This can't be happening…"

"Mister Caffrey? Easy. Ly still. You won't be completely blind. We tried to fix your eyes, yesterday, with surgery. And there was already some improvement this morning. And belief it or not, but you are moving your eyes a lot more already. Unfortunately, there will be some permanent damage, but some of the damage can be reduced with laser therapy. Although, that will have to wait until you are a little better. Because… again… sorry to say this but… you recently had a seizure. And how bad as it sounds, _that_ was actually a good thing. It resets your brain like a computer and that made you jump out of the amnesia." The hand on Neal's chest was back again.

Neal felt how cold it was compered a few minutes ago. It was hard for him to take it all in. He didn't understand all this. What was going on? Neal never got sick in his whole live! He never broke anything, didn't smoke. He always ate healthy and stuff. Why was this happening? Blind? Why? His eyes were his whole live. Why is this taken away from him?

"Oh God…" he wailed.

Grunting in the progress he lay there for another two seconds. Everyone exchanged a look to one and each other. Meanwhile all of Neal's blood drained out of his face, leaving him stark white.

"Peter, i-is she serious?" he ask again when the reality finally kicked in. His half-closed eyes moved to Peter direction. There were some gray spots and he saw a silhouette of some kind of bed rack. But it didn't made sense in his mind anymore.

"Yes, Neal. I am afraid so," Peter answered a little sorrow.

"Oh god… I think I might gonna throw up now," Neal suddenly mumbled unsure of himself.

"Oh, Sweety, you need a bowl?" nurse Betty asked.

He started to swallow hard. "That's a defined maybe," he answers. And then everything faded away as his body rocked forward and threw up on his lap.

Even if this poor guy appears to be his smooth old self, he still was very spooked about it all. And of course this was very understandable.

"Oh, you poor thing. Mister Caffrey? You need you to relax. Don't move around so much. You are making yourself dizzy." She started to take away his filthy blanked and looked behind her back. Mozzie just stood there, holding a vomit bowl with shaky hands. He was too late.

Elizabeth looked at Peter who was getting whiter as well. The smell of vomit made him wanna puke too. But he held it in like a man.

"Easy there, Caffrey. Take deep breaths."

"W-what happened? Did I faint?" Neal stuttered in shock, looking really miserable. He was so startled at this that he found enough power to come up from his pillow, once more.

"No, but you were close. Just lay back down, sweety." Now three hands fell on him and pushed him back on his pillow.

"Peter? How are you doing? What is your damage? Are you okay?" Neal asked all of the sudden. He started panting in fear. Meanwhile Betty gave Neal a clean blanket and wiped his chin with a napkin.

"I-I am fine. I am okay. Still here," Peter slurred as Elizabeth stroked through his disheveled hair.

Neal pooled an eyebrow. "Well that's convincing."

"Uh, guy's? Shall we not do this now? Both of you are looking like crap. No offence," Mozz said with upholding hands. "Maybe you two need to relax. Because I don't want to see, or smell, any more of that bile. Or I am going to be sick, too."

"Mozz got a point there, Hon. You'll need your rest," El said. Here hands were cupping Peter's grayish face. Betty smirked as she pulled Neal's bed back down. Because the poor man's eyes were already closed as he fell back asleep. His cheeks were pinking up again as his body started to relax.

"Mister Caffrey. I know this is all too much to bare, but It will be for the best if you lay down a bit. Take a nap. We can talk later." He gave a nod. His mouth cracked open to say something but nothing came out.

Everyone leaved the room for real this time. The first conversation with their old Neal was done. The rest will follow later…

* * *

**AN: How did you like this? **


	20. Chapter 20

It has been three days since Neal snapped out of his amnesia. And everyone was amazed of how fast Neal was recovering.

…

On the first day he discovered something about himself that really wasn't hard to miss since his stomach never stopped gurgling. He was so damn hungry. But eating was very hard with a busted tongue. So one of the nurses talked him into healthy shakes with a straw. The second thing that he discovered was the fact that his stomach was getting upset so easily that he only could take one tiny little sip between every hour or more. Or it will find his way back up again and then he had to start all over. Neal hated it, the whole getting sick thing. And worst of all, after pleading for hours for a little cup of coffee and finally got what he wished for, he spit it all back out when the bitterness reached his shrunken stomach. It was so humiliating. Luckily he got a little better when he had taken a walk with some nurse. Another nurse, called Annette. She was nice. But he felt so uncomfortable when she talked to him like he was some six year old, trapped in a grown man's body.

Besides his improving appetite Neal got a heightened alertness. He didn't constantly fell asleep anymore and even get a long hot shower on his own. Yeah, that's right. Without any help! Thank you very much. He was a little blind and got some dizzy spells every now and then, but that doesn't mean he couldn't wash himself. God! He hated it when they treated him like a baby.

…

Just when Neal got crankier and crankier about not able to do anything without help, the second day after his wakeup, Mozzie popped up to keep him company.

They talked for hours and Mozz told him a bit more about his amnesia-_alter ego_. Now it all sounded so very entertaining. A sissy kind of Neal. Scared like a baby bunny. They had laughed about it and Neal couldn't belief any word of it. He didn't remember a thing! It was so freaking weird.

At some point they both got very quiet. Neal heard his bald friend struggle with words and finally scraped his throat. _"I am you know… glad you're back with us, man," _Mozzie whispered; always acting so awkward for revealing his true emotions. Then, a hand grabbed Neal's shoulder tight and Neal knew what Mozzie tried to tell him.

"_I know, Mozz. I know. I am glad, too." _

On the third day, after his breakthrough his doctor came by with great news. He was getting off from his IV drip this evening, and tomorrow he will be discharged. Yes… Neal was going home. At last.

And that was not all. His sight had returned a little each day, but he still needed a white cane, at least, if he wanted to take a walk on his own. But since Neal was still a bit disoriented from time to time, especially if he was getting tired, the staff had given him some advice to _ask_ for help from them, so they could come with.

And of course, Neal Caffrey didn't take advices. He only obeyed to a few people in his life. Elizabeth was one. If Kate was still alive he would be listening to her too. June was a nice woman. He tried to listen to her too. Peter didn't count because he was a man of the law and as far as his partnership goes… he failed a couple of times obeying that big fish.

Anyway… Neal decided to drop by at Peter's room. He did that yesterday with help, but he was convinced he could do it by himself now. He had found his slippers on his own, grabbed his cane. Combed his hair a bit. One task he couldn't fail with his eyes close, because his hairdo was always perfect. _Even if it wasn't._ He pulled on his own old warm hoody that El had brought him from his room. And he started to walk down the hall. Looking for that elevator.

Unfortunately he didn't get very far with his bad eyes. He walked into some opened cleaner closet by mistake, thinking he had made it and almost tripped over a broom, looking for a button. When a male nurse found him like that Neal explained to the guy he just wanted to see his friend downstairs and the nurse brought him to room 246. He found Peter's hand and he grasped it tight. In his constant semi-darkness, it was nice to feel things. "Hey Peter. How is your day?" he asked with a wide smile. Peter squeezed in Neal's hand, telling him that he was looking a lot better. They talked a long time. Mostly just unimportant stuff. But it was pleasant to talk to each other again as friends.

Then… it got a little deep. And Neal didn't know what to do with it.

"Neal… do you remember what happened after the first blast?" Neal shook his head. His blue damaged eyes got some glimpses of Peter's brown ones. "No… I tried… but… nothing. Guess my mind erased it completely." Peter heaved a sigh.

"Be glad, kiddo. It was awful. Never felt so scared in my whole live." His voice was deep and broken. Neal got a little uncomfortable and shifted in his chair. His hand still grasping Peter's. "I know… but we survived it. So… that means something, right?" Again Neal smiled. But his lips quivered. It was almost like Peter's sadness seeped through his fingers and got right into Neal's bloodstream. It reached his heart and he had to sigh deep to relief himself from this.

"We survived. We almost died but… Still here. We are going to be fine. Together we get a little better each day. And we will be working on some case in no time." Peter liked his attitude.

"Speaking of which. I think it is time to call the Marshalls for an anklet. You are getting quite agile with those skinny legs." Neal smirked. "Oh don't even bother, I can easily slip them off now. You will have to wait until I grow back a little more muscles. Or do they have a smaller size?"

"You mean… Like a kid size? Do you really think the Marshalls are having those lying around to trace criminal children?" Neal pulled up his shoulders and shook his head. Then Peter made a weird struggling sound and shifted in his bed. "God… My legs are killing me. They got me of from strong pain meds but I guess my body has gotten use to the numbness, or something. I don't know eh…" Peter shifted again and then settled down again. He coughed a little but eased down after that. Neal let go of his hand and straightened his back.

"You need your rest. Maybe I should go back," Neal said concerned. Neal tried to look in to Peters eyes but couldn't find his face. He startled when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"I am here. And _No_. You don't have to go, yet. I am just getting stiff from all that lying. It bothers me. But if I'm moving to much my heart rate goes to the roof." They fell quiet for some time. Neal blinked a lot during the silent and finally found Peters silhouette. He almost thought he saw Peter smile up at him from his bed. "Do you see me?" he asked. Neal nodded. "Just a blurry spot. But at least it's something." His voice broke down in a soft murmur because he didn't like to talk about this weakness.

"Don't worry. You will get better. And I think you can pull of some thick glasses. At least… when your bruises and scars are completely gone, of course." Neal noticed that, already. He noticed that when he was around nurses and doctors Everytime when he asked how he looked they grew quiet. Or they simply changed the subject.

_Speaking of changing the subject._

"By the way. Where is Elizabeth?" he asked.

"At home. She needed it. Belief me. She spent so much time here, with me in the hospital, I asked her to go in order to get some personal time and well deserved rest. Besides, Satchmo has been alone more than I like, for some time now. Puppy needs a little love, too, ya know." Neal nodded. He let his elbows rest on his knees en hunched forward. His head was hanging. "Peter," he whispered all of the sudden. Peter blinked his eyes at the younger man.

"Yes, buddy?"

"I can still sculp something with clay, you know. I mean… if my eyes doesn't approve more than this. I can still paint. I won't be lost. I won't be." Neal didn't know why he brought that up, now. He just said this without thinking. Blindness had that effect sometimes. Without his eyes he could see better in his own heart now.

"I know, kiddo," Peter answers. A hand grabbed his cheek and with his thump he stroked Neal's still bruised up skin. "Neal, I probably am going to regret this for saying but you have to listen to me, right now. Since that day you gave me that green sucker. Remember? From that day on I knew… that Neal Caffrey, that snot nosey little brat of a kid, can do anything. Anything. You'll get through this. Because, that's what our Neal Caffrey does. You are invincible." Neal nodded again. Wiping his eyes now.

"Yeah. Well. You need to work on your legs soon, partner. Because you are going to be the one who gets stuck here the longest. I will be discharged in the morning." Peter blinked.

"Really? That's great! Wait… Where are you going to stay? At June's?" Neal snorted.

"Of course. I am not gonna run away because I don't have an anklet if that is what you mean."

"No, that's not it. Don't you need some help? You know. Someone who can keep on eye on you?"

"Mozz will be there the whole time. He promised me this afternoon." Peter winced at the bald guy's name. But eased down immediately. That man had proven himself a lot lately. He was a good friend to be with.

"Alright. That is a relief. Just don't do anything dangerous. I can't safe you now." Peter ruffled though Neal's curls and let him go.

After this they both got a bit tired and went to bed.

…

He was discharged in the morning and finally back home into his own apartment. The first thing he did was walking up to the balcony and just smell the fresh air. Mozzie drove him home with his own cab. And didn't leave him out of his sight. The welcome from June was very warm and pleasant she made some welcome cake and when Neal couldn't eat it with his sore tongue; she put his piece in the blender and made it into a delicious milkshake.

Home. His clock was ticking. His fridge made that particular sound he had missed a little too. "Home," he said softly, when he heard Mozzie behind him.

"Yeah. There is no place like it. Neal, as much as I like to see you enjoying the outside and all, it's freaking freezing. And I don't want you to catch something now. Come on. You need some rest, man."

…

**AN: review maybe? (I did this chapter in a rush because it played out in my mind. I hope there isn't much grammar fails! If something is bothering you, tell me. I will fix it!)**

**X**

**Josie**


	21. Chapter 21

Nurse Betty didn't go to work that day. She had called in sick, and nobody blamed her for getting some rest after these stressful days with the Caffrey situation. Betty was always a hard worker and she was always willing to give her life for some of the patients sometimes. Of course that made her a unique person. She cared too much. About everyone. But it wasn't always good for her own sake. Therefore, Doctor Kevin was glad that Nurse Betty took his advice and took a day off from all her work. Get some rest and maybe take a long nap.

But Nurse Betty didn't go to bed, or stayed at home, either. She had taken a cab instead, to the place were mister Caffrey lost his sight.

The collapsed building.

Not to gaze up on the drama that her patient and friend had been going through. Not to drown it the misery, like she never had enough of it already.

But to find a certain man.

Paul. That poor man who saved Neal Caffrey, from dying on the streets.

He had to be there, somewhere. She was certain of it. Betty didn't think Neal could've wandered off too far from this place in that same state he was in.

It was harder than she thought it would be. To see this horrific sight. It still smelled like fire and dust. There was glass everywhere. The place looked awful affront of her eyes. There was rubble scattered around the whole block. One thought came to mind. _'How could someone survive this?' _

That policeman and Caffrey were lucky to be still alive.

_Neal… _

It was cold that morning when _he_ was being discharged from the hospital. She wasn't there to wish him good luck. But she was _here_. On a mission to safe this particular man. It was Neal's forgotten wish, after all.

After he remembered his true self he had forgotten all about the things they shared. To him Betty now was just a nurse. And she could life with the fact she wasn't important anymore. Neal had survived! That was all she cared about. Therefore, there was no need to say goodbye to him and wish him the best. Because, deep down it hurt a little.

A cold wind rushed by and she buried her face deeper in her long brown jacket. Her blond hair danced in the wind and she had to stroke some of the long tresses out of her face as she glared around. Some of the people walked by, some of them glared at the big debris pieces that were still lying around, behind the barrier fencing. She overheard a woman talk to an older man as they walked by.

"Some people died here. Luckily most of them were all drifters."

"Good riddance," the old man said. _Good riddance_… Betty chewed on her cheek out of anger. Her eyes glazed all over. It was awful how people could think sometimes. Luckily not all of them thought the same. Because, when Betty looked next to her, suddenly a man was standing there. Eyes were sad and his face was gray from sorrow.

"Too bad… I mean… for those men who died in there. But I heard a policeman survived that. Must have been quiet a scare for him. I could hear the blast all away town." He shook his head then looked Betty straight in her eyes. "I told them to leave that building. I had the feeling something was going to happen, soon. But you know how cold it can get at night. It was a nice place to crash… but. I'm lucky I didn't." Betty's mouth just fell open as she looked at this old carved out man.

"You knew those men who died here, sir?" She asked. The man nodded but his eyes wandered away from her round face. "One of them was my girl. I mean. She never told me her name, but I called her Faith. Because she turned mine. If you know what I mean. She was sweet. And her voice was like music to my ears. Yup.. I am gonna miss her the most." The man shook his head and shuffled a little on his feet. His foot kicked a rock away and the rock landed on some iron supporting beam from that collapsed building.

"I should've convinced her to come with me when I had the change," he mumbled again. His voice was hoarse and hurt. Betty felt so bad for him. Her eyes were wet when she put a doubting hand on his small shouldes. "I…I am sorry for your loss." _What else could she have said? Come home with me. Stay in our home. Here is all my money._ The man suddenly smiled at her.

"Thank you, ma'am." It took a while for her to find the right words. But then Betty had an idea. She asked the man if he wanted to grab a cup of coffee with her, her threat. Maybe some lunch if he wanted too. And of course he took this generous offer.

They ate some and drank some and when the man was done, Betty finally dared to ask him if he knew a man named Paul. In her bag she had a blurry screenshot from the camera footage and showed it to him. But he, _Charles was his name_, had never seen that man in his whole misery life on the streets, he said. And that was when Betty started to realize she better should be going to the FBI with this. Instead of wandering in the streets alone. Charles told her it wasn't safe in this aria for a woman like her to ask about a drifter. And so she followed his advice and headed to the office.

…

"Mozz… Mozz… Where are you?" a faint voice came out of the bathroom. Mozzie must've dozed off when Neal was taking a long, looong, bath. He told him that it might kill the monster headache he was suffering from, right after he got home. He didn't want to take his medicine either, like Mozzie suspected it, and Neal also didn't want to go straight to bed for some rest. _Yup, Neal was back to normal, all right. And stubborn as ever._

They had a long conformation earlier, about _not_ locking the door in case something happens, like in case he slipped out of the bathtub and banged up his pretty head once over, again. Neal didn't like to give up on his privacy, but Mozzie won this argue right away when Neal tried to find the doorknob and didn't succeed.

They decided to stay away from each other until Neal was done bathing. And that took a while. Mozzie got up from the couch after he looked at the clock. _Two hours? Seriously?_

And he walked over to the half opened door. He didn't go further in, as promised.

"Neal? It's okay, buddy. I am right here. Almost thought you drowned over there, man. Do you finally need some help getting out?" A soft swearing came out of the room and the sound of water splashing got his ears.

"God, no, Mozz. You're not going to see me naked. Just hand me over another sweatpants from my closet. I…I think I dropped it into the bathtub. Or it was a towel, I don't know." Mozzie heaved a deep sigh. His shoulders relax and he shook his head from his friend stubbornness.

"Neal. You aren't still in the bathtub, right?"

"No."

"Did you climb out the tub by yourself? Why? You could've slipped."

"Well I didn't, Mozz. Geez… I am no child, you know. I can do it on my own. Just… just get me a new change of pants. I am freezing my butt off."

Again Mozzie shook his head but a smile grew on his face. "All right, buddy. Just stay there. Don't move. I'll get you another one." To him, Neal was just like a child. But he never dared to say it out loud.

…

**AN: here a short chapter. I didn't abandon this story, I just was very busy in real life;) Review and let me know what you think of this chapter!**

**X**

**josie**


	22. Chapter 22

Diana was gazing at the water dispenser, how it bobbled when she poured herself a cup. To be honest, her mind wasn't at the job for a while now. After her boss got hurt and Caffrey presumably died in the explosion they all heard from up here. They were 21 stores up and she felt her chair shake that day. It was so awful to hear her boss was hurt from this, so damn close. She never cried. But when Jones came in with the news she ran to the womansroom and cried a little. That day they both got to the hospital and she found out from Elizabeth that her husband has slipped into a coma. From that day, Diana found out that life was fragile. Anything could happen to you. Sometimes you could get hurt because you weren't careful enough. Sometimes things just happen to you, when you least expect it. Life was scarier than she first thought. Maybe because she hasn't really thought about it much, in the first place.

That evening, after the accident, Jones came by at her apartment. And they talked. Then, she knew she wasn't that strong as she thought she was. She was just a woman. A smart white collar agent who happens to be very confident about her actions. But not anymore…

Diana missed Peter. She missed Neal. Things weren't the same.

"How long were you planning to fill your cup, agent Barrigan. I think it is already full." Hughes said when he filled himself another cup of coffee.

Diana startled and turned herself to him.

"Oh Hi, Hughes. Yeah sorry. I zoned out a little. How are you, sir? You look tired."

The senior agent worked for two these days, when Peter wasn't around. He did his best to keep things running. And every now and then he talked to his co-workers. Not as a boss. But also as a good friend. He gave her a tired smile and nodded.

"We all do. But things are looking up. Peter is doing better and Caffrey is at home. We can't complain, right?"

"No sir."

He wasn't a man of many words but he said enough. When he walked back to his office Diana suddenly found herself looking up at a familiar face. A middle aged woman with a brown coat and blond hair smiled at her.

"Agent Barrigan? Please tell me if I'm wrong. We met at the hospital, remember?" she asked.

"Of course. Betty, right? How could I forget? What brings you here in the white collar division?" Diana gestured to one chair and the both took place. Betty immediately started to fumble with her handbag.

"Well, you guys are probably very busy around here, but I have a favor to ask. And please, it's very important and I never ask for anything in my whole life, but…" Diana frowned as the woman took a picture out of her bag and showed it to her.

"That's the homeless man who brought in Neal. How did you get this picture?" Diana asked. Betty shrugged.

"I have access to the surveillance room and I printed one screenshot out. Mister Caffrey basically asked me personally to go look for him so that he could give him his shoes."

Now, it sounded all a little vaguely. But it was the truth. Diana nodded but couldn't help but chuckle.

"Neal wants to give his shoes to that old man? How generous of him." Betty didn't get it.

"Is the old Neal, as you know him, not that generous?" she asked confused. Diana shook her head.

"I don't really know. The man had his secrets. But I can understand your actions. Listen, give me that picture and I will take care of it. Firstly I have to talk to my boss. But I am pretty sure he will agree to this."

"Maybe I can help?" Betty offered when Diana got up from her chair with the picture.

"Ma'am, I can completely understand your feelings. But it will be for the best if you leave this surge with the bureau. We are trained for this." Betty gave a sigh. "I understand. But It's kind of hard to let things go." She got up from her chair as well and when Diana took her to the elevator after she talked to Hughes about this they came across Jones. "Hello there. Is anything wrong nurse?" he immediately asked her. Obliviously surprised to see her, here. She smiled at the other familiar agent before she shook his head.

"Not anymore. Your boss promised me they will look for that drifter named Paul. I kind of relieved. And if you are able to find him, please call me. I want to examine him over at the hospital. That's the last thing I can do for him."

And so she went. Back to her home. Finally able to get some rest.

…

Neal was sitting on his bed for a long time. He wasn't feeling well and his headache didn't go away. Some flashes came to mind about the days before the accident. Nothing important. But his head didn't stop with showing those images until he couldn't take it anymore. He felt so terrible. It almost felt like his head was going to explode. Maybe it was time for him to take some pain meds, after all. Mozz was already angry about his childish behavior for not admitting he was in great pain. He even couldn't move anymore without getting painfully reminding about his sore body. He was shivering against his own will from exhaustion and his back muscles were stiffing up. He needed to take a break. His sore eyes wandered through his room and the only things he saw where light spots from the lamb above him. And the white sky outside.

Mozzie was downstairs with June. Pretending to leave him behind, because he was mad about him. But he knew they talked about him out of concern to each other. Some music was playing in the background in order to kill the quietness. But he got sick of it, by now. So Neal got up from his bed to shut the music of and suddenly find himself onto the ground. Boy, he was dizzy. He didn't even know which side was up, anymore. Luckily he didn't hurt himself any further.

"Mooozzz… A-alittle help?" _God! He felt terrible._ But Mozz didn't reply. Meanwhile Sinatra was playing his song "my way". And Neal couldn't help but feel stupid about it. About this… this whole thing. _His way wasn't working now, was it?_ He needs medicine. And he needed to stop being all stubborn. He was, after all, blown up. So a little pain pill wasn't that overdone.

Just when Neal wanted to give a try and call Mozz again, the little bald guy burst through the door.

"So, Neal if you don't mind… Woah! Neal? What are you doing on the ground? Need a hand?"

Neal nodded but that movement made him even more dizzy ad then, all of the sudden, he started to heave.

"June! Come here, quick!" Neal heard. And by the time that old lady came inn, Neal was already helped onto the matrass. Now that Neal was lying flat on his back he felt how tired he actually was. Although he just threw up his "welcome back" pie-smoothy, he started to feel better in an instant.

"I am okay, Mozz. I am now… Please, not to worry… B-but get me something for my head, now. Please…"

Right after this Neal fell asleep like a baby and Mozzie and June watched over him in great pleasure. Neal finally gave himself over. Hopefully, things were getting better for him now.

…

**AN: Woah two chapters in one day? Well, ya know me, always like to serve you guys:) **** Please review and things would finally come into a great ending!**

**X**

**josie**


	23. Chapter 23

The sun. One little light stream warmed his cheeks. Peter opened his eyes and smiled. A simple thing could change his deepest thoughts.

Just like that.

He was sulking.

And now he wasn't.

The sun wasn't just a ball of light but everything he touched changed into something beautiful, yet positive. Darkness morphed into light.

Peter gave a deep sigh and looked out of the window. He had one now. The nurses moved him to another room, because he deserved a little sun, once and awhile. And thank God for that. He was turning into a moping old man. This whole day was about watching the winter birds fly above the bald trees. And gazing upon the white clouds that rolled by. Sometimes rain escaped from heaven. Sometimes all the clouds made his way for that one little beam of sunlight. And he felt so… so… blest.

Yeah, that has to be the best word for it. He felt blest. For still being a part of this strange, yet, beautiful world. From up here, above the streets of New York, he saw things he never took the time to look upon it. The birds, the white strokes in the sky that airplanes left behind, slowly disappearing in to the thin air. And what about the many different colors of the clouds as the flew by.

It was so stupid to think about it. About how long ago it was when he looked up at the sky to see the clouds from their shapes into... I don't know: animals, weird looking faces, cars, the M letter from macDonalds, or something else he couldn't think of it now. Kids with open minds did that. Creative minds. Free thinkers. Not a mature and full grown man like himself. But why was that? Was his mind already full enough to forget about the smallest wonders on earth? Like this sunbeam?

And why does he have to be drugged up like now to remember he was once a child too? An open minded boy? A thought of Neal came to him mind. Neal was just like that. Still open minded. Like a fresh kid. He could see things he had forgotten about it. Neal was everything he wasn't. But not all of his mind was bad, compare to Neal's. Peter was more rational. He lived his life in peace. With a lovely wife and dog. He was settled down and very happy about it. He lived his life in balance. Although… he knew he worked too hard sometimes. But that was just how he was. A workaholic.

Well… not now… Now he was here… doing nothing. Staring upon the clouds while his medicine numbed his limbs, as they healed the broken bones.

He heaved a sigh and rubbed his face. "Bored!" he wailed all of the sudden. Then he chuckled about his weird outburst on his own. His chest was getting better, now. He was off the machine that monitored his heart. Although, his broken ribs needed some time to heal. And today he was getting a Cat-scan to look at the brain damage he'd suffered from. But he never believed he was damaged. Elizabeth didn't believe it either. He was just acting strange because of an allergic reaction to the morphine. He never had morphine before so he didn't know about his allergy. No one did.

He shifted on his bed to face the little alarm clock. It was two o'clock in the afternoon.

What was El doing now? Or Neal? Then his eyes caught the phone on his nightstand. He could call. Would he call?

Who would he call? A smirk on his face betrayed his happiness when he remembered Neal's house-phone number.

…

"What!" a hoarse voice came out before he knew it. The annoying ringing tone had awoken him far too soon, for his likings. Mozzie got up from the couch to take the damn phone, hoping Neal wouldn't wake up. But the poor man already did and took the horn without looking and brought it too his ear.

"_Neal? Is that you?"_ a goofy voice asked and Neal knew right away who this person was. And it surprised him that it made him feel happy as well.

"Peter! So they gave you a phone." Mozzie gestured too the half blind man to ask what was going on, on the other side of the phone. But Neal didn't saw that. He just smiled at the blurry from affront of him. So Mozzie held up his hand like he wanted to say: _whatever_. Or: _never mind._

"_Yes, they did. And you know what?"_

"What?" Neal asked.

"_They gave me a window too." _Peter's tone sounded way too open for his normal self. It was either the meds or the hospital food, which made him sound so dumb. But whatever… It made Neal laugh.

"How are things over there? You know, with your new room and stuff?" Neal tried to get up from his matrass but a hand pushed him back down. It was Mozzie, who obliviously didn't like him to see awake just yet.

"_Well… I am bored. El isn't here. And my room is at the end of the hall so nobody walks by so much. There isn't much to look at. Just watching the birds and the sky. Hey, did you get a glimpse of the sun, today? I did. And it was beautiful." _

That made Neal crack up. He chuckled and he dropped the horn in the proses. That was when Mozz took it away from his younger, pale looking friend.

"Peter. Neal was sleeping. You just woke him up. He needs his rest. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get him at least lying down?"

That obviously startled Peter by the sounds of it.

"Oh, Gosh. I woke him up? I am so sorry, Mozzie. I-I wasn't thinking a-about…"Mozz heaved a sigh. Peter sounded so innocent. It maybe, deep down, made him chuckle a bit too.

"Just hang up, Suit. And call someone else, alright. "

"Yeah, Peter. Try the office. I am pretty sure Hughes would love to talk to you now," Neal said with a louder voice, over Mozz's shoulder.

…

Peter put the phone down and slapped his own face for being so stupid. Damn Vicodin. It made him weird. No calls until he was thinking straight again, he decided.

…

Neal had fallen asleep with a big smile on his face and everything got back to normal again.

The hours of this day flew by and when Neal awoke again by something he found himself staring up at two blurry figures. One has blue eyes and smelled like chanel's new perfume. That one El used to wear. So it must be her. He smiled and had to yawn before he woke up completely. The long nap cured his headache and he felt great. Sleeping in your own bed was always the best.

"Hey, Neal. You are finally getting some color back on those cheeks of yours," El said with a light voice. He nodded and got up, slowly, from his pillow to face her better. This time he wasn't pushed down but helped with an extra pillow in his back.

"I made you some dinner. You think you can eat?" Elizabeth asked again. The other blurry figure, Mozzie, shuffled over to the counter to get a medicine bottle and a fresh glass of water. "Peter told me he woke you up this afternoon. He said he was sorry. And he won't do it again."

"It's okay, Elizabeth. If I was in his place and had a phone like him, I would do the same. Besides, I think it was cute." Again, Neal gave a smile. "Well, I have to admit that my husband is acting very sweet these days, but I would kill for a random fight with each other by now. I miss that." El squeezed Neal's shoulder and handed over that pills and a glass of water. Neal swallowed them with some water and nodded his thanks. "I know what you mean. I kind of miss working with him, too. But soon enough we will get back to our normal lives and think to ourselves: when do we get a pause from all of this."

"Let's hope so. Peter showed some progress on the Cat-scan. He didn't lose brain cells, like I told all the doctors."

"Was that today? Sorry I didn't ask about it, misses Suit."

"It's okay Mozz. It's not like you haven't got you hand full enough of it, already. But he is fine. That's all that matters. Next week he goes on physiotherapy."

"Sounds great, but if you don't mind. I have to go to the bathroom. Sorry, but it can't wait." Neal struggled with the covers and got on his bare feet. He swayed once but could walk on his own, with some guiding from Mozzie of course. Meanwhile, Elizabeth started to warm up Neal's dinner, on the hot stove. El was smiling and hummed a song she had heard on the radio when she drove to Neal's place. When Neal had closed his door behind him Mozz reunite with Elizabeth.

"Does he know about Paul," Elizabeth asked at the bald guy. Mozz shook his head. "I didn't tell him yet. Maybe we both need to tell him this. After dinner?" El bit on her lip. "What are we going to say? What if he doesn't want to meet him? He has the right to, you know?"

…

Yes, you are right. Paul was found. It wasn't that hard. The man was hanging out behind a Greek restaurant. The steam of the oven helped him stay warm and the cook was giving him some soup every now and then. He was taken to the hospital and they cleaned him up pretty good. He got some new well-fitting clothes and black brand new sneakers. The poor guy had gotten himself some pretty bad ammonia from the cold weather. And Betty took care of him the best she could. Paul was pleased to hear that his buddy was well again. And he would like to meet him again soon. But Neal didn't remember him. And it was possible he even didn't want to. Maybe he would freaked out about this, figuring he was scared out easily, about a lot of things when he wasn't himself back then. And it would be possible that this meeting would encourage some of the old memories Neal desperately tried to forget in his subconscious.

So yeah… this was something to be very careful about.

…

**AN: It's amazing how this worked out these last two days. I made another chapter, just because I could find the time I never had for a long time! How did you like it? Poor Paul. But he is warm and save now! Hopefully Neal wouldn't be too scared to look him up. Oh. And just one other thing. There will be some grammar mistakes in this one. I am sure of it. Like it always is. Just let me know and I will fix it!**

**X**

**Josie**


	24. Chapter 24

Both, Elizabeth and Mozzie, watched how Neal devoured his meal with great effort. He must be hungry after all of this. The explosion, his amnesia-anorexic alter ego. The nausea attacks. And of course his injured tongue from his resent seizure.

When Neal was done with his plate he grabbed at his glass of water and found a hand on his wrist.

"Neal," Elizabeth started doubtfully. Her voice was soft and almost like if she was afraid to tell him something that was on her mind. Neal got that tone easily and looked to her direction. His cheeks started to pink up.

"Sorry, for my poor manners, Elizabeth. But it was great. Thank you. Guess I was hungry as hell." He smiled at the blurry figure affront of him.

"Oh sweety, that's not what I meant. I am glad you're finally able to get something in that shrunken stomach of yours. But I have to tell you something." Neal's face whitened almost immediately and tried to find his friends face. Mozzie gave a sigh. "No, man. I know what you are thinking. It's not like that, Neal. You are not going back to prison. Relax. It's something else." Neal fluttered with his still slightly swollen eyelids and relaxed a little.

"Then it must be something about what I did, during my amnesia, right?" He looked around and one hand turned into a fist. Knuckles turned white.

"Oh, sweety… Please relax. It is actually good news and you are right about one thing. It has to do with your amnesia but it's actually very sweet. We are just a little careful with telling this. You are still far from healed and we don't want to upset you."

"Aw, misses Suit. Just tell him. He is gonna puke if you don't," Mozz mumbled softly, with his eyes locked on his tensed up young friend. Neal never liked this kind of surprises. Never!

"When you were missing for a week and a half, or, you know: _presumed death_… you apparently walked into a homeless man. This good man practically dragged you over to the hospital and basically disappeared right after he was certain that you were in good hands."

"Really? I-I always wondered how they found me after all this time. No one told me that. Well… until now of course," Neal rambled softly, almost to himself. His clutching fist relaxed finally as the young blinded man stared straight ahead.

Neal bit on his lower lip, thinking very hard. Almost forcing himself to remember this event. But nothing came to mind. His thin shoulders hung forward, betraying his weakened body. Meanwhile Elizabeth and Mozzie waited patiently. This was after all something foreign for their friend. Not able to remember stuff. It made Neal very unsure of himself. As if he was scared by the blankness of his normally clever mind.

"I can't remember that," he finally confessed, sounding really disappointed.

He sounded so sad, it almost brought Elizabeth into tears. But instead, she stroked his thin arm that lay across her on the dinner table. Mozz had put a hand on his shoulder, telling him it was okay.

"This man... where is he now? Why are you telling me this?"

El gave a sigh.

"Diana's team looked the poor man up and Paul is taken to the hospital. They are treating him. That man was in a bad shape. And we thought that you would like to see him. He sure want to see you again."

Neal blinked a couple of times.

"Yeah, and buddy. you kind of promised the nurse, who took care of you all this time, that you want to donate your shoes to him. so.." Mozzie gave his friend a pat on his shoulder before he let him go, again. And again Neal blinked.

"I did?"

El nodded and could'n stiffle her smile when she saw the poor man smirk and frown confused at the same time.

"That is nice of me," he said.

...

What El and Mozz didn't expect from their young friend was that Neal immediately agreed to meet up with the man named Paul. He said he would love to thank the man personally for what he did. Neal was after all still alive because of him and he was very very grateful. But between El and Mozz, Neal sounded a little too blank and cheerful about it. So Neal might have conned them into believing that Neal wasn't even scared or nervous at all.

Oh but he was. He most definitely was…

…

AN: SHORT! I know. But I have so much to do this month and I don't like to abandon you with this story. I wish I could write more. But I can't right now. Sorry. But I hope you loved this tiny chapter. The next one will be all about Paul and Neal. I have already ideas about this tense thingy. And it will be very good!

X

Josie.


	25. Chapter 25

It was all over the radio and everyone was going nuts inside of the hospital.

There was a snow storm coming in. Traffic was going wild, he heard, and everyone wanted to go home, before the roads disappeared under a big layer of white coldness.

So… Paul figured he was a lucky bastard for once. He was already home. Safe and sound. At least for a couple of days, the nurses said.

Yup, he was a little sick. For a pretty while now, actually. And he figured that one out when he started to cough up nasty green snot. Besides that, his chest hurt. Breathing was getting harder. And he felt a little under the weather lately especially when the October air was getting even colder. First he thought he was just getting older and figured some soup would make him feel a little better. But it only got worse. And just when he thought he might be dying if he didn't ask the cook for a second jacket or something, two agents came to him, really serious looking, and asked him for his name. After that it was all a big blur. Even now it sounded so confusing. Somehow he got in to their car and one female cop didn't stop babbling about how glad she was that he saved her friend and colleague. And so on and so on. From that moment on, it finally made sense. She was talking about that kid he found wandering around like a brainless zombie, a couple of days back. Now, Paul was actually very pleased to hear that he had friends and stuff. And that he survived the blood poisoning infections in his face. Because the kid was really messed up. And belief it or not, it made him feel a lot better knowing that he was doing okay after all. That cop told him some more stuff about his conditions but Paul couldn't follow. He pretty much forgot some parts. Though, he knew he askedthe female cop a lot of questions that sounded very important to him that moment.

'_No wonder why that kid was dressed up so fancy, he was a cop, wasn't he? And I just thought he was some kind of a Mafioso.' _That was what he first said. The female cop gave him a sweet and jet unreadable smirk.

'_He isn't a cop. But he works with us on daily bases for over three years now.'_

There was more of this, but Paul couldn't get over the first part of this conformation. He helped a cop's consultant. And now the government, who abandoned him too many times, helped _him_ out. By getting him to the hospital. To be honest: it was weird!

But he didn't complain. Of course he didn't. He felt like he was blessed. He only showed his pure nature once to one injured and lost soul, like everyone should do from time to time, and now he was called a hero? Again: Weird. Creepy, but he didn't mind. Because he finally got some sort of _kindness_ back. It was funny.

What one simple act out of unconditional love could do to you. It could bounce back onto you sometimes. Even if you didn't wanted it. Or wished it. Every good deed will be paid one day. And this time that payment came just in time.

Everyone should do these things sometimes. Showing a little goodhearted spirit into the society. It may not give you something back that you can touch. But it will give you some light in your darker days. We are all the same, you know. there is no difrence. We all have our good spirit hiding somewhere. But sometimes one soul gets lost in the game that rich and unkind, _no: unknowing_, important government people were playing. And then you can got lost forever. Paper, man. That is the only thing they care about these days. Paper money, paper bills, passports. Paul didn't get it.

Why? Why is that all they need from you or to _see_ before they belief that you exist? That you are a actual human being?

That's weird man. Really weird…

But hey, that was not today's worry. Now he was fine.

It was so pleasantly warm inside the hospital and his bed was so freaking soft and comfortable. Man! He never felt so good for a long long time.

In fact, he stayed in it as long as his blather let him. Unfortunately, they gave him a lot of fluids and medicine and he had to go every five minutes. And when that moment happened he got to his feet, almost stumbled up against the sweet blond nurse.

"Mister Freeman. How are you doing this afternoon?" she said. Her smile was so bright every time he looked at her. To be honest, he never was much of a talker. But around her, he got really quiet.

"Doing better, thank you." _That awkward moment when you feel that your cheeks are burning with shyness…_

"I was on my way to the bathroom, so… if you don't mind?" Paul said softly. He felt so naked with only his hospital gown on. His hand grabbed onto the IV pole and he started shuffling away. Nurse Betty smiled again and let him go. By the time he was done, Betty had changed the bed and even set up his table with food and apple juice.

"Later this day you get some visit, remember? I thought I could give you some extra energy for that." Paul nodded as he crawled in to his freshly made bed. Suddenly very aware of his hunger.

"Thanks ma'am. Hmm smells nice. You made it? Or are there other nurses for that?" he asked honesty. He never had been in a hospital before. So everything was quite new.

"No, I didn't. We have a cooking staff. But it isn't really great if you ask me. Most of the dinners are coming straight from a package out of the freezer. They just warm it up, nice and easy. But I didn't meant to kill your appetite. Sorry," Betty laughed. She liked being honest. And somehow it pleased her new patient.

"Well, everything is better than eating out of a trashcan, right," Paul answered slightly amused. Right after that he dove into his plastic plate. "Hmm. This is good stuff."

Betty just was about to leave his room when Paul suddenly called for her.

"Hey, uhm. That kid. What was his name again?" Betty fluttered her eyes. She felt something in his heart when she called the name. "He is called Neal Caffrey, Sir."

"But… the weather. Is it wise for him to come all the way here to visit an old homeless man like me? Now, considering these awful circumstances? The traffic is going nuts out there. Believe me, I know."

Betty got it. Besides the fact that it wasn't snowing yet, they could've gotten stuck in traffic for hours. She had to check with that bald friend of Neal, named Mozzie.

But she was already too late for warning them. Even if they should have known it wasn't a good time to travel though a snowstorm with a weak man with them. They predicted the blizzard very early this morning. And Betty felt stupid for not seeing this. It was after all her idea to reunite Neal Caffrey with his savior. But luckily, Mozzie told her over the phone that they were already on their way and very close. He also said that Neal was okay and exited to meet the man too.

So, no biggy then.

…

"It's starting," Neal suddenly announced while perking up from his car seat. His seatbelt slit over his hunched shoulders. And that made El, who was driving the car, wondering how he knew that.

"If you are talking about the snow, good guess. How did you knew. You can't see a thing," she asked amazed. Neal just smirked. "I drove in this car before, Elizabeth. It's Peter's. I can still smell the deviled ham sandwiches from last time. Besides, the windshield wipers are on automatic-mode. They make a lot of noise." That made her laugh.

"Good ears you got there. And smell."

"That is the way of balancing your sensorial abilities. If one thing is on low motion, the other thing will improve."

"Yeah, and guess what. Newsflash, mister wizard. Sometimes that science doesn't work that way, pal. Compared to my bald head I don't have so much… hair on..." he looked at El. "Well, never mind about that, shall we," Mozzie stopped when El looked grossed-out at him through the mirror. Instead of discussing the topic further Mozz quickly pointed at the hospital nearby.

"Oh look. We are almost there."

Once inside of the hospital again, Neal and El started to argue right away. Nothing harsh but... well you know... about hospital policies and wheelchairs. El wanted him to sit in one because he was getting really pale, but Neal didn't want to. He was okay, he repeated over and over. And when they walked down the main hall, Neal stopped for an unintended bathroom break. Causing both friends to worry even more, and with no more discussion El walked back to grab one wheelchair anyway.

"Maybe it is just the stress. You were looking a little scared earlier," Mozz whispered. Neal snorted. "I am not scared. I just… I think it was the car drive that made me a little queasy."

And somehow both El and Mozzie thought back on the time Neal was off his mask, during his amnesia. Back then, he was just a scared little kid. And then it made scense. Mozz suddenly wondered how much of that kid was actually a part of his pure normal self. his normal self without all those masks.

"There we are. Room 107. Care to go in without the chair, sweety?" El asked with a soft smile. Neal nodded and got on his sudden shaky legs.

"Wow, Neal. Take a deep breath. Are you ready to see your new friend?"

"Ow I am ready," Neal said with big blue eyes and his convincing best seller smile. _'There is nothing sadder than a conmen conning himself,' _Neal heard Vincent Adler say on the inside of his brain.

"Well then, By all means. Go inside. I will look for that nurse. I am pretty sure she wants to meet you again too, Neal." and Elizabeth left. Leaving Mozz and Neal alone. That had caused a smirk on Neal's face.

"She did that on purpose. To let me feel a little more comfortable, right? So do you guy's think you know all about me all of the sudden. How I _feel_ and stuff?" he asked. Mozzie shrugged. It must have scared him a bit.

"So what? It's just us, Neal. That's what friends supposed to know. Now go, already." Neal looked as if he wants to get angry at him. But his face relaxed almost in a swift. And he walked through the door, leaving that stupid chair behind.

Mozz wasn't really worried about Neal's reaction to the homeless man. He seemed like his old self. And if there was something going to happen it only could be puking. Because, that was what the poor guy did occasionally. Still, Mozzie was well aware that Neal's mind was still very fragile. And worse case scenario, Neal could flip while seeing, _more or less_, a familiar face from the time he wasn't himself. He could sink back in his alter ego, like the doctor warned them. but that wasn't very common.

Well, whatever happens... this was the moment of truth…

As he walked in the room, staying very close to Neal's back, an old man looked up in total surprise. He immediately stared to laugh out of joy.

"Kid! Look at you! Man, you look great. It is so nice to see you." He was so nice. Despite the old man's sudden cough attack Neal relaxed at the innocent voice of his. He smiled back at the place where he heard him laugh. "Paul. It's nice to meet you at last," he said polite, sticking out his hand. Mozzie saw how far Neal actually was from the bed and he pushed him a little closer. Sure Mozz knew Neal had to be a little embarrassed about his first mistake. But it was all part of his recent physical restriction; he had to get used to these things. At least until the following eye surgery.

"My name is Neal. But you already knew that."

"Well I did, kid. Names Paul Freeman. It's nice to finally meet those blue eyes of yours. You are a fancylooking man, kiddo."

And just when Neal felt a small and wrinkly hand touch his palm something happened. It was short. And fast. But it was most definitely a flashback from some kind.

'_Stay with me kid. Just hang on, kiddo. We are almost there. No! Don't fall asleep. That's the worst thing you can do with a head wound like that!'_

Neal let go of the hand and stumbled backwards.

It had gotten him by surprise and when Neal realized he was getting a bit dizzy, two hands were already hooked under his armpits. "Okay, buddy. Sit down first, before you fall down." It was Mozzie, thank God. Meanwhile, Neal didn't know what to say about this weird flashback.

"Is he okay? He looks kinda spooked?" Neal heard the same voice speak. Just like the one he heard inside his head a few seconds ago. So it must be true then. This was the guy he dreamt about last time. and it was so vage that he didn't tell anyone about this. Because he wasn't even sure.

"Uhm," he stuttered. "So how are they treating you?" trying to change the subject. His heart was thumping in his head like crazy. Some of the veins felt like they could explode any minute now. "J-Just a slight headache. Don't worry," he mumbled out loud. Answering a question that no one asked.

And then, finally Elizabeth walked in with a nurse, or someone else from this hospital.

"Hi everyone, how is the little reunion going?" Neal heard another familiar voice asking a question. Wait! This was getting somewhere. He felt like he was onto something. Weird...

"Wait," Neal mumbled out loud. He had to make sure.

Everything around him got quiet. Neal closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he started to blow all the air out of his lungs he opened his eyes again.

Something was off about his eyes and both Mozz and El noticed it right away. He wasn't all there for a second. He looked like he was in some sort of sleepwalking haze. "I need some time. I almost got it," he said. One hand got to his forehead to feel his stitched up flesh. Then he swallowed hard.

"I-I called you P-Peter. Paul, is that true?" Relief washed over them. Neal was starting to remember some parts. that was what happened from the inside of his brain.

"Yeah, that's right. What was that all about anyway? Do you know a Peter?"

"His Handler, uhm partner, is called Peter," Mozz said.

"That's my husband," El followed.

"Peter is the man who was with him when he got hurt by that explosion. He is actually here in the same hospital," Betty announced.

Neal nodded at the nurse and felt so stupid for not remember her at the first time. His cheeks flushed a bit, thinking about the times she had to clean up all his fresh made mess. She knew sides of him he never wanted to share with everyone he knew. He knew that now. Not all of it. But memories kept barging into his fragile mind. How could this happen? Why wasn't he scared? This was actually pretty scary. But he wasn't freaking out. Why not?

Maybe it was because he heard his friends talk softly. They were sweet. Soothing. He knew that everyone was as glad as he that some memories were starting to come back. But after a while of pleasant chit-chat, his headache grew bigger and he really needed a break from this.

"Guy's… Guy's please…" he whispered with a pained voice. Everyone got silent.

"What is it, sweety? You look pooped." He nodded carefully.

"I-I am tired, nurse Betty" he said after a few silent minutes. So that was it for the reunion thing. Neal thanked the man for all his kindness and gave him a plastic back like he promised. There were some nice looking shoes in it and an envelope filled with his last month salary payment money he could miss. He got one big, and maybe last, hug from Betty and a strong handshake from that homeless man. And then Neal was wheeled away to a quiet room.

They couldn't go home anymore. The traffic was _done_. The roads were sealed shut. Snow was falling fast and hard. And Neal wasn't up for a ride anymore. He needed his sleep. So they let him do that in one empty bed, on his own. Meanwhile El got to her husband for the following day.

* * *

AN: There you go! I hope I didn't do much of those stupid grammarfails. Let me know what i did wrong! Also, let me know if you like this chapter. Let's hope I do another one really quick after this baby. Cause I wanna know too, how Peter is doing anyway!

X

Josie


	26. Chapter 26

While the traffic outside was probably reached the point of ultimate chaos, the Burkes were actually quite charmed at the sight of all those white snowflake waves that caressed the windows with every gust of wind. It was actually quite relaxing for a change. Even though Elizabeth knew that she wasn't able to get home, soon, she liked this very moment a lot. Snuggle close to her husband, and all. Next to each other on the hospital bed. Watching the snow fall. Like there was no care in the world. It was romantic, especially because Christmas was just around the corner. Well… not exactly, but November the second was only a few more hours away from now.

"This is nice…" Peter whispered very soft. His doctor was here just a minute ago. Telling them that Peter's condition had improved a lot since the day he woke up. His chest was healing fast, now. He acted way brighter. And his strength was returning day by day, because he finally started to eat properly. The only thing that kept him here, were his legs. And it sucks!

If only one leg was broken he still could hop along a little with the help from some crutches, of course. But two very broken legs were no good. He had to stay flat as long as he could. Only then the legs will heal properly. Also: When you get over your younger days, bones weren't healing so easily. So, no pressure on the legs could be helpful in the proses. And hopefully, he will learn to walk again in no time.

For the first time in a very long time they were together. And even though the bed was a little too small for the both of them, even though El had to lie on her side with her head on his shoulder, and one foot over his plastered legs. It was still comfortable.

El's right arm was slightly folded on Peter's chest. And Peter rested his left hand on her hip. For a long time they stay that way. Silently staring at the snow.

El fondly listened to her husband's slow but strong heartbeat, as she placed her face closer to his neck. Peter sighed contentedly and gently pressed his chin against her crown.

It was clear to them both that there was an unhealthy difference between their temperatures. Peter was far too hot to Elizabeth's sense. And she began to think that the flu epidemic that prevailed here in the hospital had affected him.

"Hon?" El suddenly asked; breaking the long and comfortable silence.

"Hmmh?"

"You're getting hot."

"Hmmmh…" Peter mumbled again. But this time with a pleasing smile. That made El smirk.

"Not like that, I meant the fever you are having at the moment. Does the staff know?" Peter sighed deeply and turned his head ever so that he could look into her beautiful blue eyes.

"They know. But it's okay. Fever is good. It means my system is fighting against it. I don't have any other symptoms, so. This will pass."

El nodded while trying to adjust her position to give him a little more space to lose some heat.

"Please stay close to me, Hon. I missed you so much," Peter whispered softly when he felt her back away. She gave a sigh and resumed her place after placing a kiss on his warm cheek.

"Alright. But promise me that you are trying to get some rest. Sleep, Hon. You look exhausted."

And he did.

She stayed next to him for a while but then she got all cramped up and tossed a bit before admitting that she wasn't comfortable anymore. And that was the moment when someone knocked on the door. El immediately looked up and saw Mozzie walking in e few steps and stopping half way when he saw her lying on the blankets, next to a sleeping Peter.

"Oh… sorry…" he stuttered as his gaze went to the ground. That made her smile.

"No, it's okay, Mozz. Come right in. Did you check up on Neal?" at the name _NEAL_ Mozz's head shot back up at her.

"Well, that exactly is why I am here. He is… uhm… crying… in his sleep," again Mozz face fell, feeling a little weird. Because his friend would never cry. For a second time, El looked behind her to see that her husband was still asleep. Then she got of the bed and walked out of the room to talk further.

"You sure? Wasn't it just because of his eyes? I mean... It isn't that strange considering what he has been through." Mozzie nodded. But his face was still written in concern.

"He sort of talked too. I couldn't understand a word, it was all muffled. But I think he is starting to remember about the… accident." Now, El was getting worried. It took her a minute to gather herself and then she nodded. "I understand. He doesn't have to go through this alone. I come with you."

But Mozz had another idea.

"The best thing for someone who has been though these sort of things is to be with… you know… that other someone who has been through these things also. I think…" Elizabeth gave a sigh.

He meant talk to her husband. About the accident.

Mozzie shook his head.

"But I am far from a doctor, misses Suit. What do you think? Shall we talk to his former doctor about this, first?"

"You know him the best. You think this will help?"

Mozzie gave it a thought. But then he nodded back to her. His face was serious as ever.

"I think so."

"Then that is what we will have to do."

* * *

AN: Small, short. Tiny but at least it is one :) When I find more time I will post a very big one. The next chapter will be heavy and closer to the end of this story. OH! Almost forgot! I want to thank everyone who is reading this story every chapter and leave a nice and inspiring comment. It really makes my day every time! I am a very quiet and shy (read=autistic) person. Writing stories make me feel a little more open to the world. So thanks a lot!

X

Josie


	27. Chapter 27

As soon as they came near Neal's room, with Doctor Kevin at their side, they heard some commotion in the hallway. A far too young looking nurse came running towards the doctor, saying that some mental patient of his must have escaped. Kevin looked slightly incredulous at her as she walked away from the scene.

Apparently someone was acting crazy in the hallway. They already heard some frantic screams and to be honest, it sounded scary. Whoever that guy was he wouldn't go any far if he was trying to run because he was already surrounded by two strong looking male nurses and a security guard.

"Oh joy… I knew from the start that this was going to be a beautiful day," Kevin joked with his always so calm voice.

"Oh, should we be worried?" El asks in honesty. But Kevin shook his head. "No, seems that the scene is already under control." Mozz bit his lower lip as he saw how harsh the guys looked when they swung the man down to the ground. But the crazy patient was very fast and somehow he got to his feet again, trying to escape. From that moment El wanted to make a careful joke about Neal compered to this very skilled fellow who seemed to be faster and smarter than those big looking guy's. But then the fellow yelled a name that made everyone's stomach turn in concern.

"Peteeeer!" the guy yelled with a hoarse voice.

"Oh no…" Mozzie yelped.

For a moment they all just stood there in shock, and as soon as they caught a glimpse of _that someone_ who was causing all the trouble El's heart skipped a beat. She recognized the poor man right away, walking on bare feet; in fact almost dressed in nothing else but his boxer short and one soaking wet undershirt. The poor man staggered and circled blindly around in total loss of his surroundings, calling her husband's name with a heart breaking frantic voice. Despite all his misery he still could get away from all those eager hands.

"Peter! Peter… Where are you?" he yelled and suddenly lost some strength. And then the security guy could finally grab his anxious flaying arms and putted them with force down behind his back.

"Oh my Goodness. Neal? Mozz, do something!"

"What has gotten in to him? What are they doing?" Mozzie asked in shock as he looked next to him because his question was addressed to Neal's former doctor. Then he noticed he was talking to the wall, because he and El were already hurrying towards the kid to save him from this madness. Mozzie suddenly couldn't move as reality kicked in. "I should never left him alone, like that…" he whispered to himself. "It's all my fault…"

Meanwhile, El was already in the middle of the crowd, pushing everyone aside.

"Please, let him go, shame on you, mister. You only make it worse," El barked as she tried to reach Neal. The poor young man looked so scared by all of this and as soon as the security guy let him go, Neal almost fell forward, panting and sweating. His eyes looked empty as he looked around. At this moment he started shaking. "Oh sweety, you look awful. What happened?" Elizabeth asks with her compassionate voice. A mixture of tears and sweat covered his whole shivering frame and as soon as Neal recognized her voice he clung onto her blue blouse sleeves. Something had changed in the man's eyes. He snapped back in reality as if he woke up from a terrible dream. It was almost like he was sleepwalking until now. _Was it? No… Could it be possible?_

"Neal?"

"El!" he yelled. A small sign of relief washed over his face. But it soon changed into severe grieve. "I am s-so sorry. But I think he is dead," he raved. His big blue eyes were already tearing up. At this point everyone left the scene, but that same way-too-young-looking nurse, asking if she needed to sedate him. Elizabeth ignored her question and everything else around her, as she watched Neal falling apart in her arms. There was no need for that, obliviously. The poor man didn't have any strength left after this.

"El?" Neal asked again, like if he wanted to be sure she was real. _What was going on?_

"Neal, it's alright. I'm here. It is okay," she tried but heard her own panic seeping through her voice. Again, Neal's face lights up a bit as he heard her voice. As if he was sure that this wasn't a hallucination. He heard her. Saw her, more or less. But then a heavy feeling of guilt made him feeling downright awful. _Peter…_

"Elizabeth... Oh God. I-I think I left Peter there. Left him to die. He died! I'm so sorry. I-I tried but… It kept booming… T-There was this b-b-big explosion a-and then the smells… and darkness. I-I think I lost him… couldn't find him anymore…" His knees buckled and thank God for Doctor Kevin who was suddenly close enough to catch him before he fell on the ground.

He was panting at this point, eyes were big and glassy. She could feel the tremors in his hands.

"Okay, mister Caffrey. Stay calm. You are probably in shock. If you calm down a bit, I can persuade the little nurse in not giving you any drugs. Got that?" the always calm sounding doctor said, as he lowered him down onto the cold floor. Neal was sobbing and still clung cramped into El's sleeves as if he never wants to let go. Instinctively, Elizabeth knew what to do and hugged him tightly against her. Then she started rocking him back and forth until the doctor had given his orders to that young petit nurse. And then, Mozz finally decided to give a hand and kneeled down next to his best and confused friend. It was shocking seeing him like this. Every time it scared the crap out of him. It made him feel numb and powerless. But right now he was amazed at how good El was with calming Neal down.

"It's okay, Sweety. Peter is fine. You are remembering the accident, are you? Oh poor thing. That happened weeks ago. And everything is going to be fine. It's all over now. Peter is fine. You are fine. And no one died because of you."

Now, one hand was stroking small circles over Neal's sweaty back. His shivers eased down and his breathings were a little deeper now.

"I dreamt it. I saw things… Oh god. It was so bad… I-I need to…" his voice was still hoarse from all that yelling. And he still looked downright sad. And all Mozz could do was look at the two of them.

They both didn't know how long they sat there but suddenly that young nurse came back with a wheelchair. The doctor was with her, but suddenly very hurried.

"Alright, you three. It looks very cozy, I have to admit. But… There is a trauma coming in and the staff needs the space. So, if you all don't mind, I have to ask you to go back to the guest bed with him. This sweet little nurse Rozenberg is going to take care of him." Kevin made it clear that he was about to leave them with her without saying a word about Neal's condition or what they should do with him after this weird kind of _frantic_ episode.

"Wow, hold on. This man just had a big anxiety attack! Could you at least take a look at him first, before you go?" El asks with a small angry tone in her voice. At this point she had stopped stroking Neal's back and he had stopped crying, but he still was a bit not like himself. He looked so vulnerable right now, holding El close to him in total shock about what he just saw in his dream. Sitting onto the cold hospital floor; in his soaking-wet underwear.

"Of course misses Burke. I will be right with you. I just have to do something first. Kim? Can you help him in his cloths? He looks like he is freezing. Stay with them until I am back, alright?" the doctor asks the girl. Kim nodded and started to help the man up with Mozz and El's help of course. Neal led them do all the work as he stared into the blurring sight of the hospital hallway; still in shock.

Despite the fact that the young girly-like nurse looked shy, she was doing her job very well. In a swift moment Neal was back in his warm cloths, one dark blue hoody and a black oversized sweatpants, and drank two glasses of water that she offered him. When he finally relaxed some more he got a little color back on his cheeks and looked up too Elizabeth.

"We are in the hospital…" he said weakly. But it was more like a question. It made Mozz uneasy because he was afraid that this event had shattered his brain all over, again. El gave a sigh and stroked through his damp hair.

"Yes we are. But you are not a patient anymore. We were just visiting the man who saved you, remember?" She just wanted to know what he remembered, right away. She couldn't stand the fact that Neal has to go through all of this again. He was doing fine, yesterday. Until they broke him. El felt so guilty. Mozzie probably too.

Neal frowned as he thought about what El said a minute ago. And again some of the sparkles in his blue eyes returned. That was reassuring. At least he was still there, just a bit confused. "Yeah," he said with a soft relieving voice.

"Paul… I-I remember…" Neal nodded at her but then something made him think back to the accident. "But, Peter… I have to see Peter. I have to…" Again, some tears were building up behind his eyes. His lower lip quivered. His shoulder trembled. "It was bad…" Neal shook his head, face starting to lose all of his color for the second time.

The nurse eyed El for a second and took Neal's pulse.

"He is still in shock, ma'am. It would be for the best if you don't bring it up whatever he has been through." Her voice was so high pitched like a child. El was too angry that Kevin had left them after the other nurses had tried to catch him like some kind of animal. So she couldn't hide her irritation about it. But to her surprise Mozzie looked up at her and made a quick smile, saving the awkward moment.

"Excuse me, miss. But we all are having a bad day. But I am pretty sure things could go worse as someone is trying to burst her bubble right now. So… let's be quiet all together until the doctor comes back, shall we?" Kim looked apologizing at Elizabeth and she blocked her glance by mothering Neal's messy hair. Neal was sitting on the foot of his bed and leaned a little in to the warm touch. Apparently, comfort was all he needed right now. His eyes were close and he sniffled for the second time. "H-How is he by the way… Peter…" he asked a little calmer than before.

"He is okay. Every time I pay him a visit he can't stop talking about you. I think he wants no… he _needs _to see you too."

Then Neal's own hand got up to his forehead and rubbed at his stitches, grunting a little at the itch.

"Does your head hurts, sweetie?" El asks. And Neal shook his head quietly.

"No... Just itches a bit. All though, I am feeling a little queasy… you know… after all of this." Then he rubbed his arms like he was freezing, so she folded his own jacket around his shoulders.

"That is understandable. Just take it easy, sweetie. After we get an okay from Doctor Kevin, we can go visit Peter."

…

Right after that the Doctor came in with a wet mob of hair, shivering slightly. "Well, that was something else," he said as he blows some warm breathe into his palms. "A bus crashed a couple of miles away from this hospital. Some people needed immediate attention out there. But everything is under control again." _So that was why he had to leave, all the sudden_, where Elizabeth's thoughts; feeling slightly foolish about her misplaced anger. He didn't do something wrong, anyway. No one actually did. It was just a little misunderstanding, that's all. Perhaps she'd felt a bit scared herself when Neal fell in her arms. Which was understandable, too.

After a quick check-up on Neal's condition he got his okay to see Peter. It was healthy to talk about this accident for the both of them. Maybe it would take the edge off from the anxiety and they could both go on with their lives.

So they walked through the hall. Adrenaline was still present in his system so Neal prefers to walk to Peter's room. It was only on the end of the hall, anyway. But for just in case Mozzie had a wheelchair with him.

Peter was fully awake when his door opened. But when he saw the prone figure off Neal standing in the doorway he was so surprised to see him that he hiccupped once. "Neal! What a lovely surprise. I kind of hoped that you stopped by as soon as you had your little nap. El told me all about your little reunion with that homeless guy. It made me happy. I wish I was there." Neal smiled relieved to hear his strong voice, because, the last time he remembered, Peter wasn't able to talk nor Breath, from that big pole that lay on top of his chest. Wait a minute… _No… actually… he talked with Peter after that. The last time he remembered was yesterday on the phone. He was a bit stoned then… and it made him laugh. Maybe his brain wasn't fully into place yet. But the memories came finally back._

"Neal? Are you feeling okay?" El asked concerned.

She must've noticed his absent thinking-face and he let out an apologizing smile. "Yeah. I am fine. Just a little relieved to see my partner, that's all." And he didn't exaggerate. Hearing his voice made him sigh deeply.

"Peter, how have you been?" he asked with a soft smile they never saw on him, before. It was real. "Does it sound too cheesy if I say I have missed you?" and he shuffled to the bed, with his special cane and out sticking hand. Suddenly he felt a hand on his cheek. In fact: a very warm hand. That hand pulled him in an eager hug. "Yeah me too, kid," Peter said fondly. "Me too…"

There was an awkward silence between them and Mozzie kept shuffling around and finally disappeared behind El to look at the still falling snow. Pretending he wasn't touched. But deep down Mozzie knew he had changed a lot like a normal human being after this event. He cared way too much about everyone. It was scary how hard one small heart like a peanut could grow to the size of an apple. He should be careful from no one, or he will be a hippy, hugging trees and smelling flowers like crazy. A small shiver ran down his spine but luckily no one saw that.

Then finally, Peter broke the silence with a nod too Neal's cane. And he was pleased that Neal saw that movement.

"I can see you have practiced with that cane. Or are you actually starting to see a bit better?"

Neal nodded but his voice was to hoarse by now. He needed another glass of water.

Peter's eyes fell on his red-rimmed eyes. Quickly he shot a look at Elizabeth, who was awfully quiet at this point. Mozz was there too, but this time hidden behind her, for some reason. She shrugged her shoulders and mouthed: _he remembers_. And Peter's eyes grew big.

"Oh…" Peter mumbled. Somehow he sounded all different. Because he never forgot about the accident, but never had the chance to talk about it.

Neal scraped his throat and swallowed hard.

This was going to be a very tense talk.

Neal's shoulder where starting to hang forward as he tried to find his words. His hands went up to his face and then sought Peter's shoulder to give him a squeeze. He opened his mouth but still couldn't find the words for the feelings he felt about it. Besides, Neal never was much of a talker about his feelings. Neither was Peter.

So he just shook his head twice and sought the blurry face affront of him. Then Mozz came behind El and shove a chair under Neal as he saw him sway under all his stress. He sat down gratefully but never broke his stare onto Peter's face. Then he swallowed again and gave it a shot. El clasped he mouth as her eyes were already teary.

"I-I was so scared, Peter. I thought you were dead. After the blast…I screamed. But you didn't answer me anymore. I thought I was protecting you but When I woke up… I lost you… So I tried to find you… your body… b-but nothing was there. Then... I fell… I fell asleep for a very long time. All I could think off was letting you know I was still there. But I couldn't remember your number. Or…" Tears were trickling on his cheeks. He shook his head. "I felt so bad… for losing you there… even if I wasn't all there… I-I never stopped thinking about that brown-eyed figure that supposed to be my protector…"

Now it was Peter's time to swallow hard. But tears never came. "You was looking for me all that time? That can't be possible. Because no one saw you? They never found your body? They just assumed you were dead." Again Neal sought for his shoulder he had to let go to swipe the rolling tears. He didn't make a sound. But he was definitely crying. Peter brought himself closer to the young man and patted his head. "It's okay, Neal. Let it all out."

At this point, Mozzie couldn't take it anymore. So he ran out for a coffee run, he mumbled. El grabbed another chair and joyed them. Neal's face was flushed by now. Not out of embarrassment. Crying just took a lot of energy.

They sat together for that whole day. Just hanging on to one or each other. After the snowstorm had passed, Neal had fallen asleep in his chair. He hung forward, resting his head on to Peter's matrass. El never stopped stroking his brown mob of hair and Peter didn't let go of the kid's hand.

It was pretty clear that if the both of three were outside on the snow like this, it all would probably melt down.

And Mozzie?

Mozzie was no were to be found. He sure had his reasons.

Paul was doing better in the evening and took a walk around in the hospital. Finding that sweet nurse cuddling an infant while talking to the mother. After they could finally go home because the traffic was a _go_, she noticed the man snooping at her. She smiled and made the move he never dared to do and asked him if he wants to grab a coffee down the hall. He blushed but followed her.

It wasn't Christmas yet. But it sure felt like in the movies.

…

**AN: Semi-end. One chapter will follow when the inspiration says kaboom again ;)**

**Please tell me what you think of this big chapter. I am feeling needy today haha!**

**X**

**Josie**


	28. Chapter 28

Things got back to normal pretty fast after that day. Of course there were some changes after the accident. For starters, everyone loved Neal Caffrey now. Coming back from the death did that to people, apparently. Although Neal was pretty sure it was mostly out of pity. He has been through a lot. And the fact that the ex-conmen practically saved Peter Burke by protecting him from the final blast made him a hero somehow.

As for Neal's job at the office. Well, first of, he couldn't do paperwork anymore. For at least until his eyes were fixed. Besides, he couldn't focus on things for long. His head trauma had been bad. It would take time to recover from it, too.

Fieldwork was different.

Neal was mostly reassigned to the Van. He worked close with Jones on stakeouts where he was the 'ears' of very dangerous operations. Somehow Neal liked the Van now, more than anything. It felt secure. Save. And he knew what to be expected within his close range. Besides, he was good at what he mostly did. Hearing everything. Alert. Focused. People at the office supported him with everything he did. Everyone was so eager to help him to the van, or get him some coffee. They spoiled him too much. It was a funny thing, but secretly, Neal was starting to like it.

His sight improved a little day by day. But the headaches were getting unbearable without his stupid thick glasses. Diana said he was looking even smoother than before, with them. And he believed her with her always so honest opinions. Mozz liked his glasses too. He could tell because now or day's he would call him _Mon frère _more often than before, as in _Brother_ in French. In about two years Neal could get another eye surgery that will improve is vision for good. They will implant contact lenses with his old normal eyesight range. It would take a while until then, but the doctors said his eyesight would change a lot and during this period and that won't do any good for the surgery. That means they needed to readjust the implants constantly and that would cause some scar tissue.

As for his carved out frame, he gained most of his muscles back within weeks of intensive training, and a special diet but his jawline was far more sharper than before and he looked still deadly pale. The deep scar on his forehead was mostly morphed into a pink thin line but with the brown curly long locks hanging over it took care of that, too. It even made him appear younger. His attitude had changed too. He wasn't the same old overly confident self anymore. He was softer. More open towards people and he '_listened_' for a change. Hughes told him he liked the way he acted around his people. He even smiles to him when he sees him.

And Neal would smile, too. He was happy with his changes.

So yeah, he got around his new life pretty fast.

But for Peter…

After two months of rehabilitation and his first Christmas spend in a hospital bed, Peter could finally walk a bit. He finally got home on new-years-eve. And started to work from home until February. His legs didn't hurt or anything, but some tiny little things he couldn't do just yet. Taking the stairs towards his office, for example, was still a bit too much to bare. So they had moved him to the bullpen for a couple of weeks. Hughes made sure his best agent was comfortable, with the best chair the got on the whole building. Even Reese hadn't got one of those.

Fieldwork wasn't for him, too. He spends his days on the phone, paperwork. Solving cases behind his desk, sometimes while talking it over with Neal. Days at the office where a bit different than before. And the will be like this for some time. But they managed.

Peter mostly walked with crutches, with a file stuck between his teeth, mumbling some orders to the probies. Neal didn't spend his time behind his desk but mostly spend it with Peter, while he worked his ass of. Staring holes in the sloppy solved case-reports in the time he was in the hospital. No wonder why things got this hectic when he wasn't around!

"Peter," Neal asked one silent afternoon, while hanging out at his desk. Peter looked up from his work.

"Yeah," he asked flatly. His brown eyes caught a dark absent stare from the younger man. His shoulders were slumped and his face gray. "Do you ever think back? Dream…about it… you know?" Neal's voice was higher and still filled with so much feelings at once. It made Peter shudder.

He heaved a deep sigh and placed his warm hand on Neal's twitching one. "Of course, Neal. This isn't something you can easily forget. These things takes time…." He stopped talking for a moment as Neal's eyes focused on his hand. "You know. I remember everything now. It is like watching… no _experience_ a horrible movie." Peter nodded. His thumb caressed Neal's skin, remembering the time when Neal came visit him in the hospital, when Neal was recovering from one floor up. Peter knew how Neal liked feeling this kind of contact. Living in the dark, or shadowy blurry world, made his partner feel so alone. And this small gesture always seemed to sooth him.

"I am glad you're still here, agent Burke," Neal finally managed to say as he shot him a smile. It wasn't a smile like Peter had seen before. It was an honest, fondly smile. That made him chuckle.

"Yeah, glad you're not dead either, Caffrey."

They never talked about it much. This was kind of the first time, if you didn't count that day back in the hospital.

"Wanna stay over for dinner at my place tonight? El is making something special and you still look skinny as hell, pal." Neal grinned as he took of his glasses and quickly whipped his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds great."

…

No one ever forgot about Paul. It was June who bought the man all the things he needed to begin his own company. Mozz had helped making him a legal permit. (Please don't ask questions how he did it. The bald guy had his own way of dealing things.) Neal had found the man his first cliënt, and things got from there, pretty fast...

...

Paul stared at the green yard and whipped the sweat of his brows, utterly pleased with himself. He had done a good job. The lawn was mowed, the plants were starting to grow. It was starting to look great.

"Hey Paul! Are you done already? My goodness, you are a hard worker," a sweet voice said, coming out of the doorframe. Paul turned towards her with an apologizing grin.

"That's because I like my job. You can't imagine how much I missed this, ma'am." The woman's hands folded on her chest as she leaned against the doorframe.

"Oh, Paul. I am so glad you wanted to do this. I may care of people. But I am a disaster at taking care of my own garden." Paul smiled at Betty. He was blessed with his new given job. He must be watching at some kind of an angel right now.

"Let's go inside. I made you some mint tea."

Paul gave a deep sigh as a warm feeling washed over him. He wasn't only thankful for her. He was also in love.

"Thank you ma'am."

…

Paul as Betty's personal gardener? Who would've thought! He had a job. He most likely had a home. And someone who took care of him in her own way. This would be an even longer story if I was starting to tell you about how they grew towards each other. I am pretty sure there is something growing between them. The way these two act around themselves? Could it be? Please tell me they would be happily ever after? It will be awesome!

END.

AN: pfhew... this was a long story guy's. Never done this before...

What do you think of this end? What do you miss? Or hate? Or love? Let me know :) I won't bite.

X

Josie


End file.
